


The Sand Abrades

by Hannidae



Category: Reylo - Fandom, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: All Those Archetypes, Angst, Animus Island, Captured Rey, Conflicted Kylo Ren, F/M, Force Bond (Star Wars), Force Ghosts, On the Run, Restitution not Redemption, Reylo In Paradise, Romance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-01
Updated: 2016-05-19
Packaged: 2018-06-05 14:05:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 18
Words: 56,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6707281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hannidae/pseuds/Hannidae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kylo has taken Rey from Star-Killer and is tasked to train her. There are others, though, that also seek a relationship with Rey.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Bass

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This fanwork is not intended for commercial purposes. All creative works on which this fanwork is based are the property of their respective owners. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey's in another interrogation chair, and Kylo has all sorts of new plans for her. If you know what I mean. Almost.

.

.

"If you strike me down, I shall become more powerful than you can possibly imagine." -Obi-Wan Kenobi

.

.

Waking from nothingness it was like she had been swallowed by sand. Her muscles paralyzed, her eyelids too heavy to lift. There was only the automatic rise and fall of her breathing and gentle rhythm of blood thrumming in her ears. So, she reached out with the Force.

Around her was immaterial grey cloud; embracing and subduing her like smoke. The smell of metal filled her throat, chalky and bitter like the decaying Star Destroyers in Jakku's graveyard of spaceships.

Seconds or hours passed before warmth began to seep in from the tips of her fingers. Slowly, blinking through bleary vision she saw that she was again in a room of thick metal walls, like the one she had woken up in on Starkiller Base.

There had been a black, masked monster crouching in front of her in that room. But he wasn't here now.

She was alone in another metal box.

The last thing she could remember… snow, trees, _Finn_ , and the monster with his convulsing, crimson lightsaber. Her stomach clenched at the memory of him, slouched in front of her, baring his teeth. She had tried to protect Finn, but somehow the beast had cast away her into into darkness.

Then, as if sensing her awakening and beckoned by her thoughts, _his_ force signature appeared. It came in a crescendo, pulsing. She felt him as he approached outside her door. A stroke of velvet brushed somewhere against her mind, as if he had once again laid his hand on her face.

She remembered how Finn had spat the name to her, like a mouthful of blood. Kylo Ren.

He was here. And she was his prisoner, again.

The hunk of iron door slid open and he stepped in like a storm. His eyes latched on to her. Waves of some emotion she couldn't determine emanated from him, swinging around his tall, lithe body. Bass echoed from his signature like a cello being played, reverberating in her tense, coiled muscles.

She narrowed her eyes, gnawing at her tongue and tasting iron as he approached and stopped in front of her. In thick, drawling silence they considered each other.

His face was still unmasked. She would have expected him to want to hide his face from even himself for the rest of his life. Mirrors across the galaxy would shatter at his presence. But as he regarded her, his expression was impermeable. Like looking into an impassibly dense forest. Or an inverted night sky, where the black stars lay scattered across his pale skin.

"How are you?" he finally asked.

His eyes, dark but gleaming with intelligence, brimmed with more questions than statements.

How could she answer that? How could he care? Instead, she asked, "Where's Finn?"

"FN-2187? He was picked up by the Wookie that came with you to the Starkiller Base. But I don't know if they made it away from the planet before it imploded."

The cavity of her chest shuddered like a moth trying to fly with wet wings. "Was he still alive?"

"He was still breathing when I left him. But I sliced his spine. I had to end it."

The finality of his statement, even if inconclusive, was overwhelming. She could not help it then from letting out a retching sob. Her throat and lungs felt full of glue. She squeezed her eyes shut and pushed her head back hard against the interrogation chair.

How could every single connection she ever made be torn from her? Why did it always feel this agonizing?

Her defenses should be more resilient.

She felt Kylo Ren silently waiting for her to open her eyes again and look at him. She didn't, and the minutes stretched on in throbbing silence.

Finally, he said, quietly, "I don't want to hurt you. And I'm not going to let anyone else. I'll leave you for now."

She pressed her eyes closed tighter, then felt him leave. The door slammed heavily behind him.

A bereft wave of cold rolled over her, pressing away the surprise from his words, _I don't want to hurt you._

Instead, she thought of Finn, standing beside her in the forest. He was so good to her. And then she thought of Han; of him smiling at her beside the Falcon, and of him falling into the pit. A gaping maw. 

She closed her eyes again and felt a tear come. It rolled down her cheek and into her clenched teeth. She couldn't stop it or move her hands to wipe it away.

 _"Han Solo. You feel like he's the father you never had."_ Kylo Ren had said as he looked into her mind on Starkiller. No part of her resisted its truth.

She had found ways over the years on Jakku to see the beauty and appreciate the softness of the sand dunes, treading in the stale pool of required confidence refilled everyday that someone would come back for her.

Han Solo had almost offered this to her, in an alternative way that she would have been just as happy to accept. He offered her a home and sense of belonging, companionship, consideration of if she had eaten or slept. Chewbacca had immediately accepted her with unabashed and automatic openness of the heart. And Finn, flashing disarming smiles, laughter and adoration, looking at her like he had never seen anything so wonderful, did so as well. He deserved so much.

_Where is he? Finn. My friend who came back for me._

She knew that wherever he was, Kylo Ren would have determined it.

She had never met anyone like this man. He was like a gleaming black bird whose wings stretched from one side of the the galaxy to the other. So unwanting of anything visceral. He was elegant, even charismatic. And when he took his mask off, his long face that hadn't lost its youth was so human she wouldn't have otherwise believed it.

Somehow on Star Killer base she had pushed into Kylo Rens's mind and she felt his fear; a leaf quivering to its branch although the snow had already come. This was a surprise, especially compared to his ravenous appetite for things she couldn't identify. Faces she didn't recognize dominated his thoughts. There was one of particular focus, disfigured and carnally intelligent which was accompanied by a particular marriage of fear and reverence. The rest of the faces were an anonymous cimmerian kaleidoscope. Except for one she knew: a younger Han whose eyes and mouth showed an amalgamation of concern that coalesced into something extraordinary; a planet's mass of feeling. The sentiment she saw on the face of Han conjured in Kylo Ren's subconscious was more intense than she could never remember seeing on any face, and it stirred a deep sadness and desire in her. There were other images as well; worlds of rock, snow, forest, water, and grass in variety that exceeded her imagination, and on some a diversity of beautiful, crude or dramatic architecture. But most profound were sweeping flashes of dark, empty rooms, some with a recurring disfigured object centered in the middle, and a night of pouring rain. There were lifeless bodies, sometimes bearing one well-placed cauterized wound. And there were his emotions; a convoluted, nebulous ocean of churning sentiments pushed down to a distance below the level of his conscious thought.

From what she saw she believed that someone like him could be anything in the universe he aspired to. Instead, he was this dark, streaming thing of questioning indignation.

.

.

.

.

Rey waited alone in the cell maybe another hour. The apparatus that held her pressed sharply against her body, but she didn't notice it. She wanted to analyze her situation but as she tried to hold her thoughts at bay they pushed and threatened to tumble against each other with such intensity that she finally resorted to the meditation she practiced at home to balance her emotions. She was 9 years old when she had decided not to waste her time with worry anymore.

On Jakku her days had been a dependable pattern; continual layering of prediction and discovery that faded in the evening to bare and resigned solitude. In this time she would generate images of all the wonder she could inside of her X-wing pilot's helmet, imagining water and greenness, the flow of conversation that would accompany belonging to someone or something other then her hills and sky in the desert. The Rebellion pilot doll she had made when she was 10 years old was never a object for play, it was a promise, a form a personal insurance that in some places people cooperated with trust in each other, and one day she would allow that to herself as well, no matter what.

Suddenly and out of nowhere she felt _him_ coming back.

Soon the door opened and he walked into the room, closing the door behind him with a thoughtless gesture. He stood in front of her, but not close.

"How are you?" he asked again, quietly.

"Why would you even ask?"

"I want to know." He said quickly, but gently.

His demeanor was so unlike what she had expected. He had just killed his father, probably Finn, and taken her prisoner to maybe kill her too. How had he not been pulled underneath by the weight of what he had done?

"Why don't you look into my mind and see?" She paused, tasting iron, and added, "Or are you afraid of doing that again?"

He stood there in silence, but she felt the bass of his Force signature instantly grow heavier. He reached for his lightsaber, pressed it on, letting it ignite, snapping and hissing at her for a second, then pressed it off.

"No." He said, then turned and left as quickly as he came.

 _No, I won't look,_ or _No, I'm not afraid,_ she wondered, slightly both amused and annoyed that he had just walked away, again.

.

.

Twenty minutes later he came back for the third time, carrying a glass of opaque fuchsia liquid.

"Do you want a drink?" he asked.

Rey stared at him, refusing to answer and intent to not show any physical response.

Something in his carefully composed face quivered, maybe anger, but he held it in. Turning back to the door he sat against the wall next to it, setting the glass on the floor and draping his forearms over his bent knees.

"What do you want to know?" he asked.

She looked to her right at the wall, a slice of surprise running through her, but her throat and jaw too tight to answer.

Kylo Ren continued to watch her in silence. Whatever waves of emotion drifted around him before had calmed.

The silence gradually became unbearable.

"Why am I here?" Rey finally consented.

"The Supreme Leader Snoke asked me to bring you."

After a hesitant moment she asked, "Why?"

"He wants you to be trained, in the ways of the Force."

Gently, she said again, "Why?"

"Because you are incredibly strong in it."

"And he would train me?"

"No, I would."

She couldn't help softly scoffing, and looked around. "No." She said the word as heavily as if it were made of uranium.

"Why not?"

"I've already told you."

"What did you tell me?" he asked sincerely.

"You're a monster."

He chuckled, "What do you know about me?".

His smile would have been handsome if he were anyone else.

"You killed Han Solo, your father. You killed Finn, my friend."

"You don't know Han Solo. And you don't know that about Finn."

"What, that you killed him?"

"Yes, or that he's your friend."

She didn't respond, just glared at him. But inside she began to feel a tickling whisper of fear that maybe he was right.

After a moment Kylo Ren stood, strode towards her and continued, "He was trained his entire life to be a soldier, to love us and his purpose. He never once showed noncompliance or inclination to betray us. He was well liked. And then he killed a dozen of his sisters and brothers out of nowhere. Why would you trust him?"

Rey couldn't respond to this either, and she tried to push the fearful internal whisper away, but it resisted. She had been alone, unloved for so long. Trust was not something she had practiced much.

"Rey. You have two options. I train you, or I kill you."

Her eyes met his. "Is that coming from you or the Supreme Leader?

He didn't hesitate. "I'm going to give you one day to consider it."

She clenched her jaw and closed her eyes.

He waited for a moment then turned on his heel and left. After the door closed she felt a heavy rush, and heard the dim hum of his lightsaber ignite then thrash against the exterior wall, lacerating and dragging away against it.

.

.

* * *

 

.

.

Kylo strode into the maintenance room, his breathing just starting to calm. The pulsing series of light, layering and rounding upon each other like petals that was the girl left him hyper-aware of himself, neck deep in a tar pit, his skin beginning to absorb the putrid toxins like an amphibian. It was a fact he could not deny, and now she saw it. Her.

Closing his eyes he forced himself to push the thought away, breathing in ragged, heaving breaths.

A minute later, he opened his eyes, and looked at the T3 series utility droid he came her for.

"Go to the detention section and repair the wall outside of a cell 237" he snarled at the droid, which immediately departed.

Kylo stood in place in the silence of the empty room, allowing himself to focus clearly on his conversation with Rey in the cell.

_Is that coming from you or this Supreme Leader?_

He felt her aloft defiance as she said it. Her refusal to look at him. Her contempt. He hated it.

She was so perceptive. She saw minuscule things in his stance and thoughts that he was ashamed of, and repressed so deeply that no one else but Snoke would notice. Still, she judged him without legitimate justification. He wanted, needed her respect, admiration. He would have laid anything at her feet for her to smile at him and follow him conscientiously away to... anywhere. He couldn't explain it.

It was so unusual to meet someone who didn't show automatic veneration. He was Master of the Knights of Ren. He would become a Sith, once he trained her. He had come so far, sacrificing every part of his identity to do what was required of him. He killed Han Solo, among innumerable other individuals. Yet, for each of them he tried to imprint the face of, to always consider and remember what he had done and ensure the actions he took in the future were necessary.

She was his next conquest, in whatever form it would take, but he wanted compliance from her.

 _Unreasonably,_ he thought.

He had no business taming and keeping feral creatures. The Knights of Ren were even held at a distance. The labyrinth he occupied was not intended to include space for companions, and he had no desire for them. Hux, he tolerated with tremendous effort. Yet, Hux possessed a few particular attributes Kylo had nonetheless come to appreciate for the efficiency in which the General fulfilled his role. The sleekness and devotion that Hux called upon at times could even be beautiful, as he wedged himself into a ridiculous mold of demanding and incorporeal expectations.

Still, Kylo recognized that Hux was just a man told from infancy to do a thing that he happened to do extremely well. He had very little imagination and very little appreciation of the living world.

Rey, however, did. He was awed by what he saw in her mind. A mind undeniably beautiful in its strength, its value of life, and its potential for power. When he first met her, her Force current, which she had not yet learned to check, was just stirring. Each time he had met her since it had grown, which was not something he had ever encountered before in a Force sensitive, but was fascinating to witness.

He should have expected the girl would be so resistant to him. Just a girl he had never met until a day ago. Although, he had known of her for much longer.

She was a wisp of smoke he had spent much of his life threatened by. And he had spent much of his career seeking the source of reverent descriptions from the Supreme Leader of an undetectable Force presence hidden in the anonymity of ordinary humanity. Now, he has her, this scavenger girl, whom he is required to take as his apprentice.

_Unreal._

This beautiful, unbelievably Force sensitive girl who disdained him.

He didn't deny that he deserved the disdain of many, including her. He did not want it though. He never did, but it was a required companion to his decisions; bricks he had piled so high he could not see over them and no one could see in. He knew one day they would tumble onto him. Of course they would.

Activating his lightsaber he reduced the solid durasteel workbench beside him to shrapnel.

Heaving, he turned and headed for the garages.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm always working on my prose/constructs, so if you have any constructive feedback I would be so, so grateful to hear it!  
> I can't deny that comments are the life-Force of writers. Thank you again.  
> And if you ever feel like hitting me up on Tumblr, please do so! I've got a lot of love to share. I'm @hannidae


	2. Negotiate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Force) Ghosts can be anywhere.

A silent hour of forced calm passed after Kylo Ren’s departure before Rey heard someone approach down the otherwise silent corridor.

The door heaved open and a masked, slender figure of medium height walked in shrouded in a sense of authority. He or she was wearing black, emitting a slight, rippling force signature, and carrying an ominously gleaming quarterstaff. Rey held herself cold and stern as she watched this figure approach.

The figure stopped an arm's length in front of her, regarded her for a moment from behind her mask, then in a feminine and lucid accent said, "I'm moving you to your room."

Rey flinched, not from fear, but a plethora of other emotions she couldn't categorize apart from surprise and derision.

"Who are you?"

"Derisidem Ren" the woman replied curtly, and Rey's throat tightened. _The same name as Kylo Ren..._

Derisidem lifted an object she was carrying, a silver lasso of thread-thin wire and lowered the loop of it around Rey's head and neck. It immediately tightened threateningly to the skin.

 _How simple,_ Rey thought.

Derisidem attached the end of the line to her belt. Then, she pulled a pair of durasteel cuffs from the back of her cloak, to be linked by currently disconnected power couplings. She clicked them onto Rey's wrists.

"Raise your hands."

Rey complied silently, holding her face calm in restraint, like she would have for Unkar Plutt when he gave her a quarter of the rations she deserved after presenting him with exceptionally valuable salvage. The beam activated, drawing a line of line between her wrists that thrummed softly.

Immediately Rey thought of what happened on Starkiller Base, where she had managed to mind-trick the Storm Trooper to let her go. She analyzed Derisidem, considering her confident posture. She tried to reach out with the Force and tap into the layers of energy emanating from the woman; Derisidem Ren obviously had Force ability like Kylo Ren, but could she override her mind and persuade the masked women to let her go? And if she did, she would have to find her way out of this place and get transport off of the planet...

Her thoughts were interrupted when Derisidem calmly spoke, cutting the silence.

"Kylo Ren insisted that I not hurt you. But if you _do_ decide to try and get away from me, like I'm sure your considering, I can always claim self-defense for killing you." Her voice was as calm as a snake tasting the air.

Immediately Rey abandoned the idea of it, but only for the moment. She would learn more about her environment and develop a strategy.

"Follow me," Derisidem continued, "Stay close or the wire will cut into your neck."

Rey complied as Derisidem led her out into a windowless metallic hallway full of closed cell doors. They swung right into another long, solidly walled hallway with a blast door at the end guarded by a ring of sentry guns behind electron shields, which followed their movements like watchful eyes of spiders. Beneath them Derisidem pressed a complex pattern on the control panel and they stepped into an exposed elevator.

After rising at least 10 stories the door opened to an asymmetrical towering corridor of illuminated walls; shining, cream marbled stone carved intricately with hieroglyphic patterns of birds and clouds. Along one side was a row of interspaced windows, narrow and filled with twilight, brightened at the edges by pale blue, transparent electron shields that protected them. Outside and far below were pristine, gleaming prairies scattered with black, low hanging trees.

The hallway was empty but Rey could feel a presence in it, acrid and filling her lungs. After a moment, it gradually slipped away.

"Where are we?" Rey asked.

"Supreme Leader Snoke's residence." Derisidem responded thoughtlessly. Rey eyed her even-mannered captor.

_Who is she?_

_"_ Do you normally walk prisoners around?"

Derisidem looked at Rey sharply, as if to ascertain if Rey was being capricious, then softened her posture when she saw that Rey's face was genuinely curious.

"No."

Soon, they reached the end of the hall and Derisidem stopped at a door. She traced another pattern onto the accompanying control panel. The door opened immediately and she led Rey through it.

The room it opened to was enormous. Twenty-five foot glass ceilings were also protected by the powder blue electron shields, and windowless walls that curved unevenly up to the ceiling that were shining and metallic. Rey knew intuitively that they would be impenetrable. Large and softly glowing, off-white hexagonal tiles covered the floor, which she stepped onto carefully. A bed was positioned against the back wall. It looked so small compared to the hollow expanse of the room, a moon in an empty sky. A door, presumably to a bathroom, was near it.

Without speaking, Derisidem reached out and stunned Rey with a finger-length electric baton. Rey dropped into blackness immediately.

.

.

.

.

When she awoke she was lying on the bed. The room was empty and the floor, the only source of light, was darkened.

There was a glass of water and a magenta sphere of fruit on the table beside her, but her stomach was too knotted for either. She laid in silence for a while, draped in light sheets that did not warm her. Trying to focus on something calming she stared above her at the deep blue of the sky visible behind the electron shields, listening for sounds that never came. Finally, a sob urged its way out of her throat and she curled onto her side but didn't have any tears to let fall.

_How does Finn really feel for me? Is he really as apathetic as Kylo Ren says he is?_

_Would it matter?_

_I've been alone so long, losing one more person, whether he was what I thought he was or not wouldn't make a difference._

_Finn doesn't suffer in death, if that's where he is._

… _But no one deserves to lose life._

She pushed the thought away, deciding she was anguishing over something she could currently do nothing about.

Instead, she willed herself to sink into a visualization of the dune seas of Jakku. How beautiful they could be at night. And she thought of the ocean she had seen when she was so young she didn't remember how old she was. She let herself watch the waves roll over each other for a while, then considered her situation.

It was so strange, she was a prisoner in the fortress of the First Order's _Supreme Leader_ , but she felt free. She was not bound by intangible promises to Jakku and a rotting Crolute with an obvious, empty future.

Something novel had happened to her yesterday, and whatever it would be, something equally novel would happen tomorrow.

It was as if she was a fledgling whose wings had matured. Somehow, the world paradoxically felt more full than she had ever experienced before.

Throughout her life on Jakku her reflexes and premonitions had always astounded her, but she assumed it was due to a life of overwhelming routine and monotony; she had simply learned what to expect and was conditioned to react to it.

Now, every grain of sand in the desert and every tree on Takodana would have sang to her.

When she looked at the stars as she fled from Han's murderer on Starkiller Base, the beads of light were no longer just objects in the sky, but worlds of sensation and life that transcended space in murmurs of condensation.

She knew it was the Force, which had been described to her by various individuals throughout her life as a fairy tale. And, which she had only hours ago come to believe.

But why had she never felt it like this before? Why did it coincide with leaving Jakku?

"Hello, Rey."

The greeting came in a gentle voice, rustling like leaves in the forest of Takodana. She sat bolt upright in the bed.

On the stool at the foot of her bed sat a man with the most compassionate eyes she had ever seen. The lines on his face seemed ageless, somewhere between thirty and sixty. Falling like water from his shoulders were pale, gauzy robes, but he glowed a light blue. It could have been a reflection in the darkness of the electron shields above. But as she peered at him longer, she could see he was slightly transparent, like a holo.

"I'm so sorry, Rey." The expression on his face was as familiar and tender as she would expect from a father or a grandfather.

She couldn't respond for a moment, bewildered by his statement, but somehow already trusting the smile of this man that reminded her of rain. "For what?" she asked.

"For everything." He paused. "For the loneliness, difficulty, hunger and betrayal you endured growing up on Jakku. For the lack of friends to grow up with you, and losing the friends you had gained. For your present situation and the turbulence you must feel."

"I feel grief." She replied shortly.

"Well, yes, you must feel grief." He paused again. "You must feel also feel anger, fear. All of these emotions that humans are so capable of." He paused again and smiled. "But you have the ability not to let them overwhelm you. Just as you were doing, thinking of the sand and the ocean."

Rey's breath hitched in surprise, but the man kept speaking softly and she listened.

"The training you received on Jakku has taught you to inherently accept the world around you with a degree of separation. But it has also taught you compassion.

"Training?"

He sighed, as if reluctant to expose some secret. "Yes, training. But what is important is that you performed it more perfectly than we could have ever hoped."

"Training for what?" She asked, somehow unreserved in engaging in this enigma of a conversation. There was magnetism to him, and nothing felt wrong about his pull.

"For patience, compassion, observance, resourcefulness."

Rey inherently agreed that she had three of these things, but one of them seemed an unusual attribute to receive any training in, certainly in an environment such as Jakku.

"Compassion?"

"Yes, your friends Eteth Corobb and Shinnden did everything they could to show you compassion, teaching it to you. And you learned it so well."

Rey's eyes brimmed at the thought of the Ithorian healer and mechanic, Eteth. The elderly Ithorian had lived at Niima Outpost and was a type of surrogate father to Rey. He had treated her with the greatest kindness she had thought possible, befriending and caring for her when she was young. But Eteth died when she was 7.

Shinnden, a Wookie freighter pilot who transported the salvage from Niima Outpost, came some years after. She would talk with Rey when she came to collect her shipments. Over the years they grew close and Shinnden would bring Rey new modules for her flight-simulator. Shinnden encouraged Rey to leave and become a freighter pilot as well, but Rey couldn't. She had been waiting for someone.

Her throat tight, Rey asked, "Who are you?"

"My name is Obi-Wan Kenobi. Or just Ben."

"The Jedi? The Negotiator of the Jedi Council?!" Eteth had told her as many stories as he could about what he knew of the Jedi, the Rebellion, and the Resistance. Obi-Wan Kenobi was said to be one of the greatest Jedi that ever lived. He was the master of Anakin Skywalker.

He chuckled, "I'm afraid so."

'But… you died, in the Battle of Yavin. Darth Vader killed you."

"Yes." He paused, and smiled at her, his face hardening, willing her to understand what he was about to say.

"Rey, I am a manifestation of the Force. When we die, our Life force joins the Cosmic Force. But a few Jedi were taught before they passed by another of us, my old Master, how to embody their essence, or soul, after death in the Living Force. Because of this, I can be here with you now."

Rey regarded him silently for a moment while she considered this. "Why are you speaking to me?"

"Because you, Rey, are the most powerful Jedi alive. And I have always meant to, when you were ready.”

Rey shook her head, bemusement effervescent in her blood. "I'm nothing—I’m not a Jedi."

A thin film of sorrow fell over Obi-Wan's features. "Rey, you may not have had all of the training our Order has normally required, and you may not have been taught the Code, but in most ways, yes, you are a Jedi.

"Think to Jakku. You have learned incredible compassion from your friends, detachment from the material world, remarkable patience, and a respect for life with a desire to protect it. You do not know much of our history, but that is not necessary.

"I've been watching over you since you were born. Though you have never seen me, I have always been there. I sent Etheth and Shinnden, my friends also, to care for you. For your entire life I have so looked forward to your 20th birthday, the day we determined we would first meet you in person. It has been horrible to wait, to witness what you’ve had to endure. But it was necessary for your survival."

He beamed at her. "I am so proud of you."

She believed Obi-Wan. She didn't understand why, and she knew so little of the Force, but she could feel it, spouting from him and filling the room with warmth like sunlight. Through it everything he said felt as innately true as the noon sun on Jakku felt warm.

The kindness she felt radiating from him was so wonderful. Those fifteen years of loneliness that had filled her were posing to drain. Could it really be that she had found to whom she belonged? Here, of all places?

But why here? Why now? She hadn’t turned 20, like he had said he had been waiting for.

As much as she wanted to open the gates and let the reservoir of waiting flood away, something heavy, concealed, and petrified held them closed.

After hesitating he started speaking one more time, "We have withheld the Force from you, to keep you safe. But when everything started to happen in the last few days we allowed your midi-chlorians, microscopic beings in your body that allow you to interact with the Force, to wake up, to protect you. Now, we will show you how to use them. We had always meant to.

"But an interesting turn of events has occurred. You are a captive of a being who was once a Sith Lord known as Darth Plagueis. He now calls himself Snoke.

"We know that Snoke intends to take you as his apprentice once Kylo Ren has seduced you to the Dark Side. But we believe that the opposite could actually occur for Kylo Ren. And Kylo Ren may be a key to removing Snoke from power. "

He sighed, waited a long moment and looking sadder than ever said, "Rey, can we ask something of you?"

She had no apprehension in the face of the unknown request, just wonder. But Rey still waited a moment to respond, thinking, then finally asked, "Who do you mean by _we?"_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More of our dark-chocolate Space Cake coming soon! And, if you love Qui-Gon as much as I do (my greatest desire in life was for him to pluck me out of reality and train me to be a Jedi, j/k, kind of), then you'll be happy with upcoming chapters!


	3. Uropa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dark-chocolate Space Cake recipe.

 

Snoke possessed a sunless and uncharted moon, Mannassar, in the inner rim between the Yag'dhul and M'Haeli systems. Despite the lack of a sun, the atmosphere was dense with nitrogen and oxygen, so the sky shone in cerulean dusk at all times from the impact of the intense starlight. Transplanted into the hills were genetically modified varieties of ghost grass and ebony deciduous trees, which grew from chloroplasts designed to feed off starlight alone and the moon’s radiant heat.

With his incalculable wealth, Snoke had claimed the moon for its paradoxical beauty, then had its location erased from every known astrocartographic archive.

Kylo Ren sat in the grass a klick from the Supreme Leader's magnificent nautilus-shaped compound.

He watched the stratus move across a sky that would never change color. In front of him a fallen strip of Rey's tattered sash danced in the air, following the movement of his fingers.

He felt seared, numbed. Like he had been filled then drained with boiling water.

Her residue lingered over the abated burn, bright and effervescent.

_She’s unbelievable._

_So unaware of her power. She could be anything, but she knows nothing. If she learned, she would be terrifying._

He thought of the raw explosion of light he saw in her when he first entered her mind. It was blinding, a supernovae.

_But she will appreciate how much the dark side welcomes her, while the light had always remained indifferent._

The darkness had welcomed him. Resting on his shoulders and breathing into him the power and company that superseded any basic human need. Snoke offered him everything else.

Yet, he had wondered about the glow of compassion he felt in her for the people she came to care for in such a short time; FN2187, Chewbacca, Han Solo, even a droid.

How was she capable of this? The crushing loneliness in her should have suppressed any kindness.

Which was fine. He would need no kindness from her. Only her submission and, in time, respect. She was not ready for that now—as she had made clear in the forest on Starkiller base, firing her blaster at him as she stood beside the Traitor. 

The infuriation he had felt from that image still clenched at him.

But he would show her eventually how alike he and she were. How intertwined they could become with what he would show her.

He pulled the wisp of fabric into his palm and placed it back under his belt. Spare threads of it caught in the air and sailed among into the drifts of prairie grass. Their seeds were floating weightlessly through the indigo air.

When he had brought her to Mannassar Snoke had delivered the assignment of training her in a simple, gratifying command: "You will train her. When her learning is satisfactory, you will be allowed to be called a Sith." His murmured voice was like wind in the grass Kylo sat in. Snoke had offered him the universe, though one without Han Solo.

 _But I have come to terms with that, with sentiment._ Kylo told himself.

 

* * *

 

 

Kylo had docked his ship on Mannassar in the morning, though the moon's sky showed no passage of time besides the blinking constellations. Hux had transferred him and Rey from the collapsed Starkiller Base to the Finalizer. From there Kylo had flown his personal Upsilon command shuttle to Mannassar alone with the girl.

After landing the ship on the rooftop-docking pad, Kylo carried the girl from it and immediately descended directly to the Supreme Leader's library.

He studied the girl's unconscious face as he carried her in his arms, like he had on Takodana. It was so bare. Her physical delicacy was a deception. Her body had been firm bone and sinew under his fingers. And she smelled like the desert she came from, dust and sunlight.

He felt her heat radiating into him.

Bringing this acquisition to his Master was good. It applied the pressure needed to suppress the spout he had opened within himself, on Starkiller. He could focus on her, instead.

The door to Snoke's glistening athenaeum slid open before Kylo as he approached. He stepped through with the girl still in his arms into the vast space. It engulfed him like a coral reef, littered with a thousand data storage devices, diverse instruments and ancient relics. Snoke's impassive eyes were waiting for him

The cloaked Muun was towering and elegant, despite his mutilations. Still, he carried himself in a almost casual, unassuming cadence. Regardless, Kylo was acutely aware of the Supreme Leader's power, which hung heavier than the sky.

Snoke's eyes lingered heavily on Kylo before lowering to Rey.

"She is comatose?" Snoke had asked, his voice casual and smooth: the powder of bones.

"Yes. But she is reflexively resisting it." His voice sounded too thin without his mask, gossamer. He inhaled deeply.

"Good," Snoke regarded her, his gaze roaming over the lines of Rey's face. "She **is** exquisite… After all these years, you carry her here in your arms. Finally." His endless gaze, holding the satisfaction of 19 years of fulfilled expectation, rose back to Kylo's. "Take her to the detention area. When you have explained her future to her have someone transfer her to the Cloud Room."

Kylo nodded and silently moved away, the girl still positioned carefully in his arms. They burned under her weight, but he savored it.

.

.

Afterwards, as Kylo and Snoke had walked the luminous hallways of Snoke's compound Snoke smoothly detailed the first actions Kylo should take.

"Go to her in the morning. If she submits to you, you will start her training immediately. Begin with meditation. Determine her inclination to anger. Encourage it. But do not anger her yourself. She must admire you. Pull her emotion from her." His tenebrous voice was effortless, relaxed as if certain in the assumption that all would flow forward.

"I will." Kylo answered.

"Do not underestimate the finesse with which you must navigate this endeavor." Snoke ordered. "You are extremely capable Kylo Ren, but you are impatient in the delicacy of interpersonal negotiation."

Kylo had bowed his head submissively, inwardly repressing offense to the potential insult.

 

* * *

Without Snoke or the First Order, the galaxy would remain declined into decadence for centuries, if not millennia. Snoke's wisdom and accomplishments were paramount; he would resurrect the phoenix of true Harmony from the ashes. But sacrifices would have to be made and barriers removed.

Snoke, in all of his wisdom, would guide them to that gleaming future.

Snoke had resurrected himself. He had created life from nothing.

He had created Anakin Skywalker: Kylo's grandfather.

Snoke had treated Kylo like a grandchild once. When he first encountered the long-limbed boy in Luke's Temple the ancient Muun had been cordial and gentle.

Ben was a quiet but already imposing eight year-old with long, graceful movements and a mess of dark, childish curls. The child Kylo was kind and intelligent. But anger, impatience and fear revolved around an enormous power within him that had caused his mother to abandon him in her own fear.

So, Snoke became his family.

Snoke had maintained an identity as an affluent philanthropist and archivist named Dasck Linderone, who had reached out to Luke Skywalker after the battle of Endor. As Linderone, Snoke had helped to fund the establishment of the New Temple from a vast auxiliary wealth based in aurodium and plasma mining. Snoke heisted Luke's confidence through his charitable contributions that breathed voracity into the Temple, bringing gifts of historical artifacts and observing functions. But Snoke had always been so skilled in concealing his true identity.

The child Ben did not encounter Snoke until years after his entrance into the New Jedi Order. Even then, their meetings were brief and appeared inadvertent. Then, Snoke began purposeful contact with Ben from a distance that blossomed into a more expansive relationship than Ben had ever established with his Uncle. Luke had always been reserved and preoccupied.

Occasionally, however, Snoke would come to Ben, presenting secret, personal gifts.

On Ben’s 17th birthday the Muun and boy sat beside a restored fountain in an alcove among the ruins of the ancient Jedi Temple, where the New Temple had been rebuilt. Snoke had just covertly given him the elegant blueprints for an antique lightsaber. Holding back tears of gratitude, Ben chose to ask a dark question he had harbored in secret for a long time.

"Did my grandfather do the right thing? Joining the Empire?"

Snoke smiled gravely, looking towards the horizon of overcast sky.

"The Jedi were part of a corrupt, deluded and polluted system that had swallowed itself into chagrin and turmoil hundreds of years earlier. Their relationship with the Republic was rancid, but it had decayed so slowly that even the Jedi Council could not see it, or else refused to. But, for whatever reason, your grandfather Anakin Skywalker saw and understood the monstrosity the Republic had become. He recognized the putrefied reasoning that led to the killing and oppression the Senate and their conduits, the Jedi, had committed."

Many of the gifts Snoke would bring to Ben were records that described the teachings of the Jedi. But after this conversation Ben began to find in the deliveries records from the Sith: Exxar Kuun, Darth Bane, Revan, among others, and all of the wisdom, power and admiration they demonstrated in contrast to the Jedi.

Ben had began to meditate on the irony that the mother who sent him to this Jedi Academy was a leader of a government that was as corrupt as the Republic before it: repeating the failures of the past, the New Republic was just a purulent clone of its predecessor.

Eventually Ben came believe that there was no real evil, except for perhaps the old Republic, the New Republic, the Jedi—they embodied everything about life that instigated the need for prison, for execution, for chains, for the forced implosion of turmoil.

So hypocritical the Jedi were.

When the time came that Snoke informed Ben of his plans to cleanse the Temple, Ben had swallowed the Darkness had learned to love his Master. He would tear the world open to repay the faith he had been given. Demolishing the New Temple was not a difficult thing to accomplish. He did it, and he reclaimed for his Master all the gifts the Sith lord had lured Luke into blindly accepting.

Afterwards, Snoke gave Kylo Ren his name and later, his title: Master of the Knights of Ren.

 

* * *

 

 

_And soon Rey will be one of us. She will be a glory. She is already so marvelous._

He rose and turned back to the compound. He would see her in the morning. She would accept the first of the options he gave her.

His heart, though it should have been reduced to bone, trembled at the thought.

_._

_._

_._

_._

 

 


	4. Masks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jedi Ghost pow-wow.  
> Breakfast pastries for our Space Cakes.  
> A walk in the grass.

"Remember Rey, we have great faith in you. You have proven day after day that you are everything we could have hoped for." Said the deep, fluid voice of the tall older Jedi with long hair and attentive eyes who had introduced himself as Qui-Gon Jinn.

Next to him, the tiny Jedi Master Yoda, whose eyes contained the patience of a thousand year, said, "Do this, we believe you can."

Anakin Skywalker, the youngest with solemn, sharp features nodded and added, "Kylo Ren is on his way. We will go… Thank you, Rey. May the Force be with you."

Rey watched them each bow to her, her eyes bleary from emotion and exhaustion, and her chest weightless with wonder of everything these men had revealed to her, shared with her, and entrusted her with in the last couple of hours. Feeling slightly awkward for the recognition and her unfamiliarity with the movement, she emulated their bow back to them as earnestly as she felt she could. She felt like a sheet of cloth in the wind. They each smiled at her, each supportive and forbearing in their own way, then disappeared.

She rose from the mattress. Looking at the clock on the bedside table she saw it was barely dawn. Two hours had passed since she first saw Obi-Wan before the other Jedi Masters joined them. She looked around, noticed the door next to her bed and curiously walked through it.

She flinched at what she saw in the room as the light came on. There was a large mirror covering the wall with a reflection of herself. Since she could remember she had only looked into a mirror a handful of times, and the last occasion was probably 3 years ago. She had never needed one, nor really cared what she saw, so she had never kept one. Looking now though, she saw a face that much older than she had expected, still covered in sweat-condensed smears of dust and sand from Jakku. Her eyes, though tired, looked determined and sharp. And yet, the lines of her face somehow seemed tranquil and just barely, softly, glowing.

Despite what she had experienced in the past few days, speaking with Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon, Yoda and Anakin had brought her great relief and no small sense of elation.

They had told her that Finn was alive, healing, which greatly consoled her churning fear.

They also told her many things about her past and what was happening in the world around her. These revelations were accompanied by information that stirred many emotions, balancing happiness with apprehension. This objective she had been asked to consider was ominous, though it led to the most positive outcome any of them could expect from the current paradigm into which Snoke had woven the New Republic, the First Order, and the Resistance. A very great threat loomed above the path the Jedi Masters asked her to take. She would have to sail very, very close a supermassive black hole and not be reached by its powerful gravitational pull. But they told her that they believed she could succeed, and they promised they would be there to see her through.

Though she knew she should be doubtful, the sincerity they each demonstrated in their eyes, their voices, and their posture, as well as the purling, soft waves of the Force that surrounded them and enveloped her in a bath of serenity, comforted herher.

Never once had she stolen salvage from another scavenger, hurt an attacker more than absolutely necessary for self-defense, or withheld offering her miniscule supply of food of water to another who would succumb without it. The Jedi Masters told her how they had seen this, even when she hadn't fully recognized it herself. They said it was how they had the faith they believed was necessary to ask her to do this thing: to train with Kylo Ren and gain his trust.

Their company, though overwhelming, was welcome. But they were asking her to bring daylight to night. How could she do this? How could they expect this of her?

Exhaling deeply, she walked to the sink below the mirror, recognizing its function from the ships she had been on, and splashed her face with water, rinsing away the grime.

But to wash herself with water—it seemed such a waste. She couldn't restrain a instinctive cringe as she filled her cupped palms under the faucet then raised it to her face.

She dried her face with her sash, then slipped back into the cold bed in the darkness of the blue room. The rhythm of her breathing pulled her immediately back into sleep.

 

* * *

**He** was here, again. Approaching outside of her door.

He was billowing energy, even from the distance. But somehow, it felt subdued.

Rising from under the layers of cloth, she looked through the expanse of the room to the door. The floor tiles had been lit again, and a soft light filled the room.

He knocked on the door and waited on the other side.

Somewhat bewildered by the polite formality, she hesitated before taking the 10 seconds to walk across the cavernous but shadowless space, illuminated from the floor. When she got to the door, she heard, in her mind, not a probe or anything that felt evasive, just a delivered question,

May I enter? His tone was bare.

Yes. She thought back, marveling at the ability to communicate just through the Force, but remembering how Yoda had indicated that the Force was not a toy or a servant. Jedi do not use the Force unless necessary to train themselves, defend themselves, or help others. But, Yoda had added that those conditions entailed anything she might need to do to give Kylo confidence in her cooperation, and eventually place his trust in her.

The electron shields released and the door swooped open. She found herself looking at Kylo's asymmetrical, intelligent face that bared an inquisitive tone. She was struck again by how it might have been handsome if it was someone else's.

"You're not wearing a mask." She said.

"No." He responded curtly, then said, "Please step back."

She did and he entered the room, she just noticed, holding two plates of some kind of food. The door closed and shields reactivated behind him.

"You need to eat." He said, walking past her a few steps, then sinking gracefully into a cross-legged seating position. She was amazed at how lithe he was for his height and lean-muscular build. He set the plates down to a tinkling of ceramic on glass, one for him and one for her. She met his gaze, which was still curious and composed, then walked over and sat in front of him.

"I wear the mask to create a sense of detachment and authority." He elaborated.

Rey noticed a tinge in his Force signature when he said 'detachment', but he kept speaking so she couldn't dwell on it.

"If you become my apprentice, I won't need it."

She didn't know how to respond to this, even though she had already agreed to someone else that she would do so. It felt grating, like being drug along a plain of gravel. But, regardless of what the Jedi had wanted, she had no other option.

Something about her face though made Kylo smile, although almost imperceptibly. "You've thought about it?"

"Yes… I will," Rey said, slowly, but deliberately.

She could sense Kylo's body tense, but his barely evident smile betrayed his thoughts.

The smile was surprising. It was not arrogant. Somehow, it swept a color of gratification across his face instead.

He didn't respond for a moment, just considered her face. Finally he exhaled and moved to a new subject as if nothing had been said. "This is Mandalorian Afenca pastry. " He said, impassively indicating at the dish. "You'll like it." He removed a glove and reached down to pick up the utensil and take a bite.

Rey watched his long, elegant fingers for a second, then resigned herself to her decision from this morning and followed suit.

The pastry was the most delicious thing she could remember eating. Fluffy layers of some dough held a balance of an unknown tangy fruit and creamy cheese. She eyed him after her first bite, expecting him to say something, but his eyes were on his food, chewing thoughtfully, so devoured the pastry, barely breathing in her pleasure.

When she was done, he pushed his half-uneaten plate away and regarded her. "Will you tell me how you are now? I'm not going to look into your mind again, unless I need to."

"What would constitute needing to?" she countered.

His trace of a smile disappeared. "Doing something senseless. Like trying to escape. Which, I should tell you; we implanted a tracking device in you yesterday. I apologize for the invasion but it was a necessary precaution. If we find you've left Mannassar, here, without permission, The Supreme Leader or I can make it explode, which will kill you." He paused then said, his voice swelling with a fricative sincerity, "Please, don't try it."

Rey felt his genuineness. She decided not to address the tracker, already half-expecting it.

She also took a moment instead to consider what he said about not entering her mind again. He seemed sincere. More so, from all of his actions, his words, even his thoughts that she had observed in the cell on Starkiller Base, he seemed honest in accordance with some perception he held for himself of dignity. She sensed that he pursued truth and required it before making a decision on how to proceed in his ambitions. He may be volatile like his reverberating, crackling lightsaber, but he was not a liar or deceitful. The subtle movements of the eyes, the tensing of the jaw, and spine or shoulders-- she had learned how to detect dishonesty extremely well in Niima, having been given many important opportunities to practice.

So, if what he said about staying out of her mind was true, she would do the same. She would not trespass or steal from him. She could not internally respect him because of what he had done; what he wants to do, but she would treat him with respect as a reflection of herself.

Then, deciding this of her future with him, she considered what this future would entail.

"What will my life here be, then?"

He shifted, perhaps surprised by her allowance of his admission and then her directness. "It depends on you. Things can go many different ways." He paused, musing. "I hope that it will not be difficult for you to accept." Rey didn't respond. He analyzed her for some time, his face impassive. Finally he spoke, his voice like granite. "How much do you know of the Force?"

"Almost nothing. Only what I've heard the Jedi can do, which I used to think were fairy tales: levitation, mind-tricks, increased speed and strength." She paused then said, "I had no idea you can feel people in the Force, or look into their minds." Her gaze darkened at that.

He nodded, not responding. Then he stood up and looked around the room, analyzing the gently humming glass ceiling full of rich blue and stars. "I know you have been told what it is: an energy that is composed from all living things and connects everything. But, there are two theoretical sides to the Force. The Light Side, which the Jedi used, and the Dark. There are many different historical theories of what constitutes the two sides. Some say it the two sides are inherently different and separate. Others say it depends entirely on the intentions of the user; whether the Force is being used for good or evil purposes." He sneered as he said evil, but watched Rey's face as he spoke, and she tried to show him nothing.

"I don't subscribe to any theory that the Force is either good or evil," he continued slowly. "And I don't want you to waste your time thinking about good or evil. Just think about what is right; what can be done to create the most utilitarian opportunity for peace."

Rey was surprised by this recognition of peace, but continued watching him silently, despite the objections that ran through her mind of exactly how evil he might be, and how wrong he was.

"Don't waste your time categorizing something whole and pure like the Force into compartments of good or bad that will keep your attention away from where it needs to be. Just trust yourself; trust your emotions and how they react to what the world tells you."

He sat back down in from of her, watching her carefully.

"I want you to meditate for awhile. Feel your emotions, feel how the Force responds to them, growing more powerful and more submissive to certain ones." He finished speaking and waited expectantly, apparently done speaking.

Rey breathed in deeply, resigned, and closed her eyes. She knew she would have to do this in earnest. Even though Kylo said he would not go into her mind unnecessarily, a reflexive part of her doubted everyone, especially him. Still she closed her eyes and tried to focus on what she was feeling.

Over the next half-hour a myriad of emotions paraded through her, eventually slipping away after she considered each. She found it difficult to hold on to any one: fear, confusion, sadness, worry, curiosity, anxiety, calmness, and subtle anger. Perhaps it was because Kylo sat five feet in front of her, also meditating. She never did feel him in her mind though, like she had before on Starkiller Base. The sensation was like him reaching into a deep, full chest of things, rummaging around, repositioning them with his graceful, deft hands.

Finally, she settled on boredom, and as if sensing it without looking into her mind, Kylo spoke.

"Would you like to take a walk?"

Her eyes flew open to his face, which was completely sincere in its question.

"Yes." She said simply, surprised he would offer to let her leave her cell, whatever they called it. But she remembered the tracker and felt bitterness crawl into her mouth.

He stood and walked back to the door. After hesitating, she followed him. He led her into the hallway, back into the lift, then into a long and empty passageway between cavernous rooms and intricately decorated hallways full of art and windows. They only passed one other being as they went, a hooded, masked figure crossing the opposite end of a room who regarded them only briefly. Kylo made no notice of him or her.

Finally, they stepped outside into a courtyard rimmed with exotic and impressive plant species. Though Rey had passed almost a day here, on Mannassar, occasionally looking at the sky through the shielded ceiling, there had been no change to the color of the atmosphere.

"Why doesn't the sky change color?" She asked.

Kylo looked over his wrapped shoulder at her, "Mannassar doesn't have a sun. The light of the sky is all from the concentration of starlight."

She gazed forward and returned to their previous silence.

In time they had walked fully into the white prairie, which was glowing and hauntingly beautiful under the dusk sky. She looked at him and he held her gaze for a second before quickly looking away.

"Tell me about Jakku." Kylo said.

Rey glanced at him, knowing he couldn't possibly be interested in the sand dunes, but spoke anyway. "It's beautiful, in its own way; especially at night, when the sky looks like here. If it's summer I love to sleep in the sand because it's cooler than the air but not cold. At noon the sand in the Goazoan Badlands sometimes reflects the sunlight so strongly it looks like milk. There are these gorgeous little white birds that look like water when they fly in flocks. And there are some flowers that grow north of the sinking fields that are the deepest crimson and blue I have ever seen."

Kylo watched her as she spoke, his lips slightly parted. "You've never told me how you feel." He said, indicating no emotion.

"Why do you want to know?"

"To have some idea of how you are actually reacting internally yo all of this. To have an idea of what to expect from you."

Rey inhaled a deep breath. Would he sense it if she lied? She felt for him, looking for clues on if he was tapping into her consciousness. But the waves of his Force signature didn't brush hers; she could definitely feel a separation between them, unlike when it swelled and coursed through her with simmering intensity in the interrogation room on Starkiller Base.

"I don't know." She finally settled on. "I'm just acquiescing to the only course available to me, and I don't have any idea what your plan is, so I don't know how to feel about it." She hesitated, almost said something about how she was not malicious, but stopped herself.

"You're afraid I'm going to change you." Kylo said quietly, stopping and turning to her.

"Are you?" Rey asked.

Kylo looked at her severely. His face, if possible, looked injured in reaction to the question.

"I want to show you my point of view. I believe that if you saw it you wouldn't think of me or my endeavors the way you currently do."

She considered this for a moment, curious. "What is your point of view?"

"I'll share that with you later." He said, firming his jaw. "We should go back. I'll get you some texts to pass some time." He paused, then added, a flicker of ardor in his eyes, "We'll continue our training this evening. I want to see what you're capable of physically." Then he turned and led her back to Snoke's compound in silence.

As she followed him, allowing his silence, she tried to consider what was happening to her. Who this black robed person in front of her was. He was an ocean, but all she could see of him were the waves that roiled on the surface.

For all she could see, she was staring into an abyss.

 


	5. Curriculums

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kylo is especially considerate of Rey's auxiliary needs.  
> Rey chats with a much needed (and lovely) father-figure.  
> Then, she demonstrates exactly how much of a BAMF she is.

 

The silence enveloped them like the twilight as Kylo led Rey back to the hollow passageways of Snoke's fortress. Rey pondered the tall, obscure figure in front of her; he had been so engaged in her when she answered his query about Jakku. Still, this silence felt lopsided and unbalanced. Regardless, she was not surprised he would have little to say to her; he was a Star Dragon, a Duinuogwuin, and she was a small, colorless desert bird. Surely they had exhausted the possibilities for any form of casual dialogue.

Which was good. Speaking to him felt grating, but he watched her with such open, engrossed eyes— it was unfamiliar, but she never felt so well listened to.

Still, she could never say anything sincere to him without feeling a thrumming and evasive antipathy to his darkness.

 _Remember what the Jedi Masters told you_ , she censured herself. " _He must eventually trust you and admire you. Perhaps you may never feel the same towards him, but you must try to convince him that you are sincere_."

She couldn't help her misgivings towards their request, especially since she saw very little reason for Kylo Ren to trust her, much less admire her. Yes, she was capable of tapping into the Force, but she had only so been for a matter of days, like a foal just learning to walk on long, wobbly legs. How could she expect to be admirable within even years if Jedi trained their entire lives for it? Yet, none of the Masters seemed concerned with her physical or Force abilities. There seemed to be something else entirely about her they focused on—something innate to her personality.

But her personality had no parallels with Kylo Ren's on any level. He was the underground: stone, fossils and oil. How could a person do what he did without collapsing into a pile of char? Yet he didn't. When she looked at him she saw dark, shining, intelligent eyes that contained a reservoir of emotion that could fill an ocean. She didn't want to recognize it when she had seen it, but she remembered now how when she accidentally pushed into his mind on Starkiller Base she hadn't only seen fear, anger, and ambition. She had also seen children he had protected in worlds where adults surrounding them were slaughtered by his troops. She felt his remorse for murders he personally felt were unnecessary but required by the First Order.

 _How?_ Her disbelief thundered.

She thought back to this morning when Anakin Skywalker had told her, "Rey, try to consider Kylo's perspectives. Ask him about them; that would allow him to take the first steps to confide in you, then perhaps trust and admire you. He is already tempted by you; I know his mind."

Rey considered this, then asked Anakin, "Why don't you do this; what you are asking me to?"

Anakin's jaw tightened and a look of contrition closed over his eyes as he responded, "He considers Darth Vader something he should not, and he clings to Darth Vader's legacy. Snoke has poisoned him very effectively. If I tried to interfere, I worry his rage with his inner turmoil and the deception that has swallowed him would send his hate past a point he could not return from. We can't risk that."

Rey considered this now as she followed Kylo. He moved like a river, coursing its way through the hallways. It was fascinating to consider Anakin's statement and to think of Kylo carrying inner turmoil. She recalled witnessing something when Kylo had murdered Han, how contorted his face looked: an mélange of anguish and anger. But she had thought it must have been a sham. How could he otherwise murder his father, Han Solo?

Just had she replayed the horrendous event in her mind, recalling Kylo's face during the conversation as well as she could, he stopped suddenly and turned to her, his face dark and rigid.

"I can sense your apprehension, Rey," he said coarsely. "I do not blame you. But you couldn't possibly know enough of our world from your sheltered life on Jakku, or enough of me and my purpose." He paused, inhaling a deep breath, then added, "I saw your mind; I saw enough to know this. Just give me time to show you."

Rey hesitated, flinching under his smoldering expression, but made a demonstration of considering his words and nodded carefully.

After a long moment Kylo tuned and continued walking. After turning into one more large, empty room he led her to a door. He stopped, unlocked it, and glanced back at her saying, "follow me", then led her through.

They entered an extraordinary and massive room, one more phenomenal than Rey could have imagined. Tall, narrow windows reached 40 feet from floor to ceiling, bordering a jungle of art and artifacts a hundred times more numerous and remarkable than those in Maz Kanata's store room full of treasures. More significantly to Rey, there was also an endless collection of storage crystals, data pads, docufiles, micro-books, even actual leafed paper books and scrolls, which were incredibly rare. Her mouth hung in appreciative awe as she gazed around.

She now marveled at the incalculable value of the information contained in this room. She could wander from shelf to shelf in here for years, soaking it up, and never be satisfied.

Kylo looked back at her, suddenly furrowing his brow at her in a concern that felt much more tender to Rey than it should be.

"Have you been educated?" he asked in a tentative tone and she was sure he was considering how she grew up as a scavenger on Jakku.

Rey flitted her eyes to him briefly, a little annoyed by the potentially offensive question, but still entranced by what she was seeing. She only muttered, "Of course."

Education was not a difficult thing to acquire for those who wanted it. A comprehensive education could be taught electronically and was dispersed freely and openly across the Galaxy from the Core. Still, she had to save several months of rations before being able to barter for a full, standard educational curriculum, which she completed through gritty, exhausted eyes throughout her childhood to adolescence. She had completed what would be a 12 year instructional program for a full time student in 6 years of evening study. Afterwards she continued, as much as she could, to independently study history, geography, psychology, physics, chemistry, biology, engineering, mechanics, sociology, economics, anything.

Relief lightly coated Kylo expression at her affirmation. Reaching out an arm, he pulled a elegant datapad from the shelf beside him. Turning back to her, he appraised her for a moment. Then, he raised a comlink from his belt and spoke passively into it, "Derisidem, bring a clean pair of your robes and a training staff from the armory. Meet me at Rey's quarters. Now."

"Yes, Lord Ren." Came an immediate reply from the voice Rey recognized as belonging to the woman with the mask and quarterstaff.

Still regarding Rey, Kylo said to her, "Stay with me," then turned back to the door they came through and led her the rest of the way to her room.

Derisidem was waiting for them outside Rey's open door, holding a bundle of black fabric and a staff half the size of Rey's. Rey explored her posture and her masked face, but nothing indicated anything about this person, other than that she had the same last name as Kylo Ren. But why _?_

Without addressing Derisidem, Kylo took the clothes and staff from her. Immediately she bowed to him, which he ignored as he stepped through Rey’s door. Derisidem's head swung to Rey, and she felt Derisidem's Force signature swell and snap like a rubber band. Not in anger exactly, but in some form of grievance. Rey lifted her eyes from the woman placidly and silently followed Kylo through the door, hearing Derisidem turn and leave behind them.

Kylo was waiting for her just inside. He held the bundle of cloth out to her, looking into her eyes as he did, forecasting. She took them and waited for him to say something.

After five seconds he quietly said, "Rest, bathe. I’ll have food brought. At 5 I’ll return to see what you’re capable of with staff."

"Am I being watched?" Rey said quickly, her mind suddenly convulsing with an electrical current of fear and guilt that her conversation with Obi-Wan, Yoda, Qui-Gon and Anakin had been seen this morning. The Jedi Masters never showed any concern or indication they were being observed, so she had assumed their conversation was unmonitored.

Kyle's eyes tightened as he considered what she asked, then he said, "No Rey. You are my apprentice, and though I'm not going to just let you walk away, you are not my prisoner. I promise, there are no cameras or other security besides the electron shields. You are not being watched."

Then he turned and left, resting the staff against the wall before walking out through the door and re-activating the shields.

 

 

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Rey sat on the bed looping her shower-wet hair away from her eyes and wearing the raver toned tunic Derisidem had brought for her. Just as she was reaching for one of the holocrons, eager to see what it contained, she heard the voice of Qui-Gon Jinn.

"Rey, may I speak to you?"

Looking around, she didn't see him, but she was already nodding in affirmation.

In a moment, he materialized ten steps in front of her, smiling gently; the creases of his lucent eyes deep, soapstone carvings.

"Thank you," he said, bowing slightly.

"Of course." Rey responded, feeling awkward at the acknowledgement.

"How are you feeling?" He asked.

"I'm fine." She said automatically, but when he raised his eyebrows mildly, she allowed her mind to slow and consider it. "I'm… surprised." She finally said. "I expected Kylo Ren to act differently; more viciously. But he never treats me the way I expect him to."

"Yes…" Qui-Gon said thoughtfully, pacing to the right. “Anakin has indicated how troubled Kylo is with the path he had chosen, but he has found ways to push past his uncertainty. Snoke is very skilled at manipulating him. He holds Kylo hostage with a promise of what he could be."

"What is he troubled about?"

"Qui-Gon looked at Rey and smiled sorrowfully, "For most of the things you would expect. But he has convinced himself he is doing the right thing."

"Slaughtering millions of innocent people?" Rey scoffed.

"Anakin has also shared with us that it was not Kylo's own desire to use the Starkiller Base as a weapon. In another instance, he tried, at great personal risk, to sway Snoke from using it." Qui-Gon paused and regarded her carefully before continuing. "Anakin has also told us that Kylo feels compassion. Specifically for you."

Rey shook her head at this, looking at the floor in an urge to feel rejection. But ghost fingertips of wonder brushed along her collar. She could recall that Kylo had never treated her coarsely, but instead… with gentleness. Even when he pressed into her mind on Starkiller, he had prefaced it by saying, _"I would have preferred to avoid this. Despite what you may believe, it gives me no pleasure. I will go as easily as possible."_

She looked back up at Qui-Gon who was watching her patiently. She nodded, "Maybe. But that doesn't change what he's done."

"No." Qui-Gon responded. "What he has done will always be a part of him. He will never be able to be acquitted of his crimes. But he could still make a choice to do something that is right."

"Leave the Order?"

"Perhaps. If he had help."

The thought was dizzying, like she was inhaling smoke. How could she be tasked with this responsibility? "You truly really think he would?"

"We don't know. Even if he recognizes Snoke for what he is, Kylo believes the First Order is operating on the best postulation of what should happen to the Galaxy. But now that the New Republic is gone it's possible that he could be persuaded to see a different point of view."

Rey couldn't respond to this. Genocide could never be reasonable. No one ever had the right to take life. Then she thought of Finn; Kylo had said he killed dozens of other storm troopers.

"Did Finn choose to kill people?" She asked Qui-Gon quietly.

He regarded her sadly, then responded, "I don't know Rey. But he was placed in a life he never asked for, and he made a choice."

Rey thought of the moment at Maz Kanata's cantina when Finn had told her who he really was.

" _I was raised to do one thing. Trained to do one thing. To kill my enemy. But my first battle, I made a choice. I wasn't going to kill for them. So I ran."_ She had felt the truth pouring from him as he said this; his need to be understood. But did that make him innocent? Was he fighting only in self-defense?

Still, _It was a choice Kylo never made,_ she thought scornfully.

But she didn't know very much about the First Order, only that it was extremely powerful, a descendent of the Empire intent on eliminating the New Republic, questioning democracy. But she didn't know how much of what she had heard about the New Republic was true, either.

"Do you think the First Order is right in any way?" She asked Qui-Gon.

He considered her question for a while before responding. "When you focus on the living Force you will come to feel how an individual universe exists within every life-form. When someone understands this it becomes very difficult to justify removing that life-form's right to make choices in how it is governed." He paused, his patient eyes holding hers, and continued, "Snoke believes he has the wisdom to make those choices for the Galaxy, to avoid misjudgment and disorder. But only through the mistakes of democratic action can species evolve to live with each other."

Rey nodded silently, considering what Qui-Gon said.

After a long pause, he spoke again. "You can do this Rey."

Rey looked at him, lips pressed tight, and nodded hesitantly, but allowing his surety to settle into her, growing roots in the sand.

Earlier that morning Rey had asked the four Jedi about Luke Skywalker.

_"Will the Resistance ever find him?"_

_Obi-Wan had answered her. "They already have. The rest of the map they needed was contained in another droid that was waiting for your 20th birthday. Luke has been waiting for you all these years just as we have, hiding himself so he would be there for you when you were ready."_

_"Is he going to help the Resistance?" She asked._

_"No. His sister, who is a leader of the Resistance, went to see him and ask for his help. But with your present circumstances, he will remain in hiding until things change."_

_"What things?"_

_"If you are successful in influencing Kylo Ren to help us."_

_She had asked then if they really thought it was possible, and Anakin answered firmly with stern eyes, "Yes. I do. It was not that long ago that he fell. He was never truly certain in his decision to descend. What he did to Han Solo… he believed it would cement his commitment to his path. It didn’t. I believe it may have had the opposite effect.”_

Now, as she regarded Qui-Gon, she saw the same conviction in him.

As if sensing her insecurity, he smiled reassuringly and said, "Trust yourself, Rey. There is little you cannot do."

Her expression softened at his consolation, a phantom sense of ease beginning to tide at her.

"I will let you rest. If you need any of us, we will be here. May the Force be with you, Rey."

Rey nodded and watched his transparent form fade into nothing, then continued to look at the empty space, considering the swell of emotion pressing against her chest. After a minute she turned back to the holocron and inserted it into the projector.

 

 

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After several hours of studying the data files Kylo had given her, which were mostly about the history of the Republic, the Clone Wars and the Empire, Rey fell asleep, wrapped in the cool sheets of the bed.

She did not dream, and only slept lightly, sensing the gaping space of empty room around her in her semi-consciousness.

Abruptly she was awoken by the sensation of him approaching. This time, his Force signature was stirred more than normal, and was more vibrant.

She rose quickly and walked to the door to meet him where she felt him stop and wait. She sent him the thought, _come in_.

 _Thank you,_ he responded, and she watched the door open to see him. He was unmasked as was becoming normal, and carrying a training staff similar to the one he had earlier left for her. She noticed that he also still carried his lightsaber on his belt.

He regarded her for a moment then walked past her to the center of the room. She picked up her staff from where it still rested against the wall and followed him, stopping a few paces away.

He looked at her grip on the staff.

"You've fought with melee weapons.” It wasn’t a question.

"Yes. I had a quarter-staff."

He smiled lightly at that, but his eyes remained stern.

"Your hold is already good. Keep it like that. What do you know about defensive posturing?"

"I'm not sure, I've never had any training.”

“Then, let’s find out.”

He stepped forward, indicating that she should prepare for his offense.

Two steps from her he raised his staff then slowly lowered it towards the right of her waist.

Rey parried it slowly as well.

"Good form," he said, fully focused. Then he drew his staff away, pirouetted fluidly, and swung it a little faster to the left side of her neck.

Rey effortlessly blocked it again, anticipating what he would do before her began the swing. "You don't have to go so slow," she said calmly.

Kylo eyed her for a moment, then quickly sidestepped, withdrew his staff, then sliced it towards her ribs.

But his staff hit empty air as Rey had already twisted around, pulling her own staff up in a clean slice, which grazed an inch away from his sternum. His remarkable litheness had barely allowed him to retreat in time to avoid contact.

It was unexpected to him, and he froze. She realized he had thought her capable of

Turning back to Kylo she scanned his eyes. They blazed at her with astonishment and some other raw, grinding emotion she couldn't identify.

Then he stepped forward again, raising his staff, and she stepped back, uncertain.

"Keep going" he said, "Don’t hold back. I need to know what you're actually capable of". His voice was even and sincere, so she nodded and resumed her posture.

This time Kylo moved quickly, and with more of the strength evident in his flowing physique. What Rey lacked in matching strength she substituted with agility. If she had to parry a strike, she had already established her defensive posture before he actualized his attack.

As they continued to spar, Kylo grew more and more fierce and the power of each strike was less restrained until there was nothing he held back.

While this happened, Rey, bewildered to feel completely in control, began to include more offensive maneuvers. She was tapping into the Force as she had been noticing possible so much since Starkiller base, using it to feel every coming attack Kylo would perform before it even happened. This spar was almost effortless for her, which she marveled at.

But as it continued, Kylo's expression transitioned from calm, to curious, to enraged; fury seeping from his movements like a heated piece of iron ready to be cast.

Finally, after a dozen attacks and parries, during a brief lock of their staffs, Kylo snarled at her, "You're just a scavenger," almost as if to assure himself, but the words slammed into Rey like Kylo's staff couldn't.

Of course she was a scavenger; she had no choice.

She spun with ferocious determination out of the gridlock and cow-kicked at Kylo's right leg. Her sole landed in a thud on his shin, thrusting his weight forward and out of balance. Then, she instantly jabbed the end of her staff into him. It met his hip and grazed heavily off, the flesh she pushed against resisting the dull point.

Immediately she stepped back, lowering her staff to her side.

"I am," she said, her voice as cool and dry at the night air above the Jakku dunes.

Stiffly, Kylo forced a retreating step as well, his mouth contorted in ire. But he did not raise his staff again. Instead, he considered her as she stood like stone before him, though both of them breathed in long, jagged gasps.

Finally, his anger released to something softer. His breathing stilled, and barely tilting his head, he murmured, "You don't have any idea who you really are."

 


	6. Cloud

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> See Snoke and Kylo seethe over a super sexy, powerful, sun goddess.

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Chapter 6: Cloud

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He watched Rey standing there, her eyes as wide as the sky and pouring inquiry at his question like rain. But part of her looked not surprised, or afraid, or even curious at the answer, but uncertain. Like she was looking into a dark corridor she was not sure she wanted to go down because she knew what might lurk in it.

"Who am I?" She asked in a low, trembling voice. There were no locked doors to a secret in her eyes.

He stared at her, submerged in an ocean pummeled by a storm somewhere above. But around him was only the slightly billowing calm of water that could not be moved. Funny, everything about her rasped of wind and sand, but as he looked at her, feeling the swelling, cool and enveloping waves of her Force signature, he saw she was really a creature of water.

But Rey could not know who she was. Not if he was going to keep her in his hands.

He did not respond to her question.

"I will be back in the morning. I suggest you meditate." He finally said through closed teeth, forcing momentary calm over his pounding, seething lungs.

It enraged him that the flow of her Force signature was somehow only mildly agitated, even after the conundrum of a spar that should have been painfully slow and boringly methodical but was exactly the opposite. Tides of smoky fury had started to clog his windpipe, and he knew it was time for him to leave.

He turned away from her locked gaze and jaw and swept out of the room, striding down the halls towards his quarters where each step felt like a landslide.

The girl sliced through all of his expectations, crushed his unexpectantly low defenses, and nearly beaten him in combat. He would not admit that she had—it was close, but not enough. Still, that should never, ever have happened. Even if his defenses were entirely lowered.

True, he was not prepared for her to have any significant melee based combat capability. When he had pushed into her mind he had seen glimpses of her, under a glaring sun, defending herself against sand-stained attackers. Although indicated that she would be this significantly skilled.

_Unreal._

His mind surged back to one of those mentions of the undiscovered Force Presence by the Supreme Leader. They had been in Snoke's athenaeum several years ago, mapping a newly discovered location of a Church of the Force colony on Stewjon. Kylo would be captaining a small crew of troopers there to scope out any potentially Force-sensitive individuals that would need to be removed.

All Force sensitives who might threaten the First Order were typically to be eliminated. However, Snoke then had said, in an even voice, "There have been descriptions of a girl in the capital city, Sendo. She may be particularly well endowed with Force ability. Take her midi-chlorian count; if it is beyond 20,000, bring her back with you."

"Yes, master." Kylo had said passively in mirrored response to the disimpassioned command. However, the information presented in Snoke's order revealed something magnificent. No Jedi or Sith in recorded history had even been found to have that many midi-chlorians. An exception, Snoke had once told him as they discussed Kylo's studies of Force sensitivity, would have been his grandfather, Darth Vader; a pristine conception of the Force.

Kylo had gone to Stewjon and found this girl, small, frail and too young. She was gifted with Force sensitivity, but not enough. In the end, she turned out to be unremarkable. Still, she was a small threat that was unfortunately necessary to eliminate. His Knights had done it, which he permitted with no pleasure, quickly and silently. She did not suffer, then or in death.

But Rey was not like this girl.

She was a scavenger from a wasted, forgotten planet. But she **had** that transcendent midi-chlorian count. Kylo had taken a blood sample from her on Starkiller Base. It neared 30,000.

How auspiciously fortunate for Rey that she could be born with power no one else could ever imagine. She could crush worlds if she wanted to. But here she was, a bird in Kylo's hands until she grew so large that she would swallow him and then Snoke would welcome her as a splendid replacement. The second known pristine conception.

Kylo was a just a contaminated mutt.

This spider of a suspicion had been advancing toward him all day. Was Snoke forcing him to train his own replacement? Kylo was meant to drain the girl of her sentiment and pour the Dark Side instead in. And when she was a gleaming obsidian weapon, which Kylo had no doubt she would be soon, for one glided to the Dark Side on wings, Snoke would command she be given to him. Then Snoke would offer her the world, as long as she ate it from his hand.

_But would he even be allowed to continue training Rey after what she had just done?_

Kylo walked into the hallway his rooms connected to and found Derisidem Ren waiting for him.

"How was the girl's training?" She asked as he approached.

Kylo glared at her, casting a shadow over her face, but did not respond.

"Is there something bothering you?” Her calm expression became much more perturbed.

"No." Kylo snarled through closed teeth, stepping towards his door.

Derisidem looked at him, then to the door, as if she longed to step in front of it and block him from going through, but she bit her lip and stood still.

"Is this going to be successful?" She asked, clearly restraining herself from asking more.

Kylo entered the security code into the panel outside his door then stepped into the room without looking at or responding to her. The door closed and he howled in an exploding heave.

His hand went to his lightsaber as he covered the large room in five steps, roaring. Sinking his scarlet blade into the wall he thrashed against it if he could disintegrate it entirely, surging incessantly until his arms and knees finally dropped like lead.

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Resting his back against the wall, inhaling jagged breaths, Kylo felt his comlink vibrate. Rising immediately, he moved to go to the willow garden where Snoke would be waiting for him.

His body was rigid like cooled and hardened magma,

The Muun was sitting under his treasured 6,000-year-old ebony willow tree, which he had transplanted from Umbara. Kylo approached deliberately, but pulled back into his robes and stepped with soft feet so he would not disturb the night that cloaked the Supreme Leader.

The Muun's Force signature was completely undetectable. The scarred body betrayed the incalculable power that lurked within it. No one would look at the Supreme Leader and imagine what he was capable of, so controlled and protective was his appearance. Even Kylo did not know the limits to his power.

The Muun's obscure, enigmatic voice curled through the darkness to Kylo, "We have learned that the Resistance has found Skywalker and made contact with him." He did not look at Kylo, but indicated at a bench beside him.

"But we have the girl." Kylo said tentatively, taking his seat, his head low but his eyes up.

"Yes." Snoke mused, and then after a pause asked, "What did you learn from your assessment of her melee combat ability?"

Kylo hesitated and in that fraction of a second Snoke's eyes flew to him, calculating menacingly. "Her capability is more than we would have expected." Kylo said slowly.

"To what degree?"

"Very capable."

"Will she pose a threat?"

Reluctantly, Kylo delicately said, hushed and chagrined, "Possibly."

It was rare that Kylo was involved in a situation where he would disappoint Snoke, but when he did, Snoke was not forgiving. Now, Snoke suddenly felt to Kylo as cold and remote as the ice planet Hoth.

For a dozen years up until a week ago, one of Snoke's most central aims was to discover Luke Skywalker. Snoke had long resigned himself to the idea that Skywalker was hiding to safely train new Jedi. But most significantly, Snoke feared he had found and been training this theoretical, conspicuously Force-sensitive Being. Snoke had never stopped looking for the Being since he perceived its conception 19 years ago.

Snoke quietly said, "When the girl was conceived, the Force radiated like a tsunami away from her. I felt the same essence this morning, when you led her past me in the grass veranda."

Kylo listened silently, waiting for the reprimand that was to come as silent as an invisible knife.

"I hope that you are capable of this." Snoke's eyes, venomous, drew to Kylo for the first time, burning at him.

Snoke didn't say anything else for several minutes. But the absence of words only indicated the greatest potential criticism. Kylo felt his esophagus burn from the building acid of degradation and humiliation.

"At this point, your priority should be to draw her anger from wherever she has buried it. That should not be difficult for you, petulant human."

Kylo bowed his head completely exposing the back of his neck.

"Go."

Kylo nodded once, then rose and left.

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Kylo lay in his bed that night with his sheets twisted like vines around his legs and bare, clammy torso. Sleep was never easy for him, a maze of toothed and serrated mirrors, but now it came like scattered, light raindrops.

 _Snoke will discard me,_ he thought, over and over. _She will replace me._

But would she? When he looked into Rey's mind on Takodana he had sensed the presence of such kindness and compassion. He recalled her memory of when FN2187, the Traitor, had told her he was a defected Storm Trooper; she had felt no antagonism towards him, only concern and solicitude. She had been prepared in that moment to forgive any of his transgressions as long as he would disavow himself of the First Order, which he did. Then, she was willing to accept him into her heart. In many ways, she already had—wanting to care for and protect him like a brother. A man she had only known for hours.

Could he draw darkness and desire out of this girl that had no interest in his guidance?

It was possible to corrupt anything, but what would it take to corrupt her? Would the result leave her so fragmented she was unstable?

He thought of himself when Snoke had first found him, an underground aquifer of fury and terror at his abandonment to a life of service to others. He wanted to help them, whoever they would be, but on his own terms. But not under the shackles of his uncle who had accepted him into training more as an unintentional delinquent in need of reconditioning than an esteemed apprentice.

But once Snoke showed Kylo what to look for, the Dark Side was waiting with its arms wide open and a pedestal prepared. He’d felt so fulfilled.

So far Rey had only ever defended herself, run from, or been immobilized by those arms.

She would not welcome the darkness the way it would welcome her.

Kylo realized that he could not thrust it upon her. And… he did not want to.

He wanted her to take his hand and follow him into it. Even if that meant that Snoke would win everything, while he lost everything, except for perhaps… her.

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He waited outside her door the next morning, feeling her Force signature rouse on the other side in response to his arrival. Moments later her voice, contradictorily as smooth and coarse as only sand could be, sounded in his mind.

_You can come in._

He unlocked the door and stepped though, seeing her take a step back in response. His eyes followed the graceful sweep of her movement, trying to ignore her retreat.

"Here" he said, offering her one of the plates he carried of eggs and vegetables in a peppery sauce, his favorite morning dish.

She eyed him curiously for a moment before stepping forward and taking the plate. Then she silently turned away from him to move to the center of the room and sit to eat.

Firming his lips in both grim annoyance and amusement at the lack of formality he had grown accustomed to from years commanding the First Order, he followed her, eating as he walked.

"Do you sleep well here?" He asked, surprised himself at how informal his question was, but determining to recognize it as necessary for understanding her mental state.

"I've never been imprisoned, so I wouldn't know. But I don't sleep like I did on Jakku."

"You don't consider a life of scavenging on Jakku imprisonment?"

"No. I was free there. I only stayed because I was waiting for someone."

"I know. But neither of us really know who, do we?"

She glared at him, but he was startled to see that color was lining her face in response to his statement. Every single thing he had ever seen her do or say, every thought of her mind expressed courage, fortitude, and self-confidence. But now it was clear that she was deeply shamed by the fact that she did not remember the faces of her family who had deserted her well over a decade ago.

He could not blame her for forgetting, but he was puzzled by her personal reaction. Of course, the faces of his parents were seared into his memory like cattle brands: markers of whom he was born as. He would do anything to remove them, so he removed Ben Solo.

He watched her for a moment, lost in observing the subtle struggle she fought below her surface to reel in her emotions and wipe her expression clean again. It was clear she had no intention of continuing the determined direction of conversation.

After a moment, Kylo said, "We will meditate again today. This time, I suggest you focus your meditations on me." He smirked as he said this; it was his night's culmination of planning, a calculated attempt to force her anger, but perhaps also her involuntary consideration of his actions and intentions and just how justified they in fact were.

She was modest; so she would despise his ostensibly pretentious and self-absorbed suggestion of thinking about him. As a result, her annoyance would securely fasten her thoughts to him for a while. But it was very clear that she was extremely intelligent, so if she followed logic, it would not lead her into total darkness but rather through a series of opened doors regarding the idealism of the First Order concerning the corruption of the New Republic. Most significantly, a data-network records check he performed last night revealed that she had viewed several of the data files he had given her regarding the birth and development of the now obsolete New Republic.

Rey glared at him, her teeth clenching exactly how he intended. Several seconds passed while he forced himself to regard her impassively, before she closed her eyes and submitted to his request. He could feel her irritation through her Force signature whipping about like a furious cat's tail.

She would need to learn to control that.

While Snoke had always refrained from probing into Kylo's mind as a form of courtesy to his apprentice, Kylo still strongly feared the future possibility of it happening. He stored too many relics of internal conflict, long suppressed he told himself, but nonetheless necessary to shield.

Still, in the past Snoke would on any occasion deliberately surmise Kylo's tangible emotions from his Force signature. It infuriated Kylo, yet he knew it was totally acceptable on Snoke's part. So, over the years Kylo experimented and did what he could to control the flux of his feelings, and this self-training on repressing his sentiments was fairly effective. Snoke had even remarked on it once, questioning Kylo's motives with particular choleric displeasure. However, Kylo had known that his Master would recognize this defiance as inevitable, and Snoke did conclusively treat it as such.

But he feared that Snoke was holding back from a true probe—allowing Kylo a false sense of security so that he would not train too far. That way, when Snoke really wanted to read his apprentice's thoughts, he would be able to delve through the weak defenses.

He needed a training partner to help him with this; to feel sure that he could defend himself against Snoke. Rey was strong in the Force, perhaps even stronger than the Sith Lord, even though she was untrained.

She was his best chance.

As he regarded her, Kylo decided he would try to teach her this defense mechanism as well. He suspected Rey would take quite some time accepting her fate as the protégé of a Sith's apprentice, and Snoke would be dissatisfied with the pace of her progress. He would need to protect her from Snoke's inquisition to allow her conversion the freedom it might require.

And he did not like the idea of Snoke or himself betraying her trust to probe into her mind again, even if he did not have her trust yet.

He wondered if he would ever have it.

Tapping back into his sense of her Force signature, his breath hitched to find that she was no longer agitated. He had calculated that she should be fully treading into the familiar grasp of anger he knew so well. Rather, she seemed serene, as much as she had by the end of her other worthless meditation session yesterday morning.

He had intentionally goaded her towards anger in the most direct way he thought possible, but she was as unmovable as a cloud.

_This is ridiculous._

Unable to restrain the irritation from his voice, he spoke roughly, "You don't need to be afraid of anger."

She opened her eyes and looked at him evenly. "I'm not."

"Then why are you resisting it?"

"Because there's no reason to let myself feel it. It's only destructive."

He scoffed, unbelieving at her belligerence. He was Kylo Ren, Master of the Knights of Ren, but she treated him like he was just another scavenger on Jakku. "Spoken like a Jedi. Where did you hear that?"

"To suppress anger? No one told me. I don't need anyone to."

"So the empty years on Jakku have turned you into some wise ascetic?"

"No. Just a scavenger."

"And a pilot, force-bearer… duelist." He listed the occupations slowly, sharply.

Rey just regarded him in silence, waiting for him to say more.

They watched each other for another moment before Kylo looked away, returning to his earlier thoughts about teaching her to resist probing. If Snoke ever probed her and he learned how ineffective Kylo's influence was on her… he needed to teach her soon; for them teach each other how to resist. He had licked his wounds in forced tolerance and absinthian silence for too long, to find the holes had only been pulled wider in the morning. But maybe, of all the things this girl was, perhaps she was also a warrior… and a healer.

"I want to teach you how to resist the mind probe." He said quickly.

A stroke of confusion and intrigue swept across her face, "Really? Why?"

He decided to chance it, knowing the threat of what he was going to say wouldn't have mattered at this point any way.

"For your protection. And for mine." He held his breath, completely uncertain what her reaction would be.

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	7. Petals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey and Kylo begin to practice protecting each other. Later, Rey learns a little about her past.

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Chapter 7: Petals

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"For your protection?" Rey responded sharply, unable to contain a weak smile of disbelief. What was he playing at? She scanned his face, only seeing sincere and solid intent, but also a hidden a hint of fear that stuck out like a coattail caught in a door. _Could he really be afraid of something?_

And for another innumerable instance, she was reminded of his face during his conversation with Han Solo in the oscillator. She saw just the glint of it again now; a cliff wall crumbling to reveal a reservoir of something long concealed.

"Protection from what?" She queried, noticing her voice had grown much more gentle.

Kylo Ren regarded her silently for a long while. She could almost feel the synaptic clicking of his thoughts, the minute rise and pull of his disquietude as he calculated how to respond to her inquiry, which she realized would require a very deep drill into his trust and confidence.

But she hadn't expected him to take it seriously at all, and here he was, potentially preparing to lift away the layers of his dark, figuratively filthy textile and armor wrappings to show her his vulnerabilities.

When he spoke, she knew he had exposed himself. She was looking into a deep wound, inflicted over a very long and slow period of time, never allowed to heal.

He spoke carefully, like wading across a river. "You heard the conversation I had with Han Solo. Part of what he said I believe could be correct. I need to protect myself, preventatively. And I also want to protect you."

"From Snoke?" She breathed, awed at how this monster had laid down before her and retracted his fangs. He felt honest; she was increasingly sure of it.

He looked around for a moment, glancing at the gently sloping and gleaming matte walls of metal that surrounded them and the deep ocean-blue of the sky behind the glass ceiling. "From many things," he said.

She could understand his evasion. She watched him, analyzing his pale face, his dark eyes under heavy eyelids, and his large, somber lips. He looked like he had been very cold for a very long time. She speculated at his time spent on the snowy, weaponized planet. Did he ever feel comfort there? Maybe in talking with companions or walking between the tall, quiet trees? Did he enjoy anything he did? Did he find pleasure in killing worlds?

She did not feel that this was a trick. Like he said, he could take whatever he wants.

She knew, looking at him, that he was some fantastic predator that had been found, captured and sedated. But he had come to recognize the limitations of his cage and longed for freedom. He was using her. She was just a girl that had chanced to walk by, one of the very few to ever find where he was hidden, and she knew she might be capable of prying the lock.

But what would he do when she set him free?

Would he devour her?

Or would he slink by, grateful and ashamed, before slipping himself into the open maw of the forest?

Did she have a choice? She too, was in a cage. If she did nothing, she would wilt and die emaciated. If she helped him, she might find an unlocked door to flee through as she followed him down one of Snoke's many hallways.

But only if her intentions remained hidden—he could not look into her mind again. He had said he wouldn't, and she felt inclined to believe he was capable of honesty. But she couldn't leave it uncertain.

More importantly, she had been communicating with the Jedi Masters. What if he learned of this? What would happen? Would she be executed immediately?

She lifted her eyes and stared at him, trying to glimpse any piece of the puzzle his eyes could offer her. She wished she could ask the Masters what to do.

Suddenly, he spoke. "Are you concerned about me reaching into your mind again?"

She marveled briefly at his intuition.

 _He would need it to be what he is_ , she concluded after a moment.

"Yes." She decided to answer blankly.

"The mind is a layered thing. Like a planet, there is the atmosphere, crust, mantle, outer core and inner core. It is the hardest to prevent someone from probing into your top layers, but successively easier to stop someone from reaching down into each layer below. Even the most basically trained, like you, can prevent a probe into either of the cores, where the most significant memories and desires are stored, against all but the strongest infiltrators."

Rey considered this and paraphrased it to make sure she understood. "So, it's an inverted system: the deeper someone reaches, the easier it is to defend? That's why I was able to push you out on Starkiller Base?"

"Yes."

Nodding, Rey asked, "What is at the top layer?"

"Immediate, intentional inner dialogue; direct thoughts. They are the easiest to control and suppress."

"And below that?"

"Strong, uncontrolled emotions. Although, only the most well-practiced can prevent someone strong in the Force from sensing their immediate emotions.

"Those two top layers, like the sky and the landscape, are the easiest to access- visible to the eye. Defending against them is like creating fog.

"But anything below that requires an intentional push and considerable skill or powerful raw ability, like digging underground. If we were to do this, we would only practice defending against the top two layers. The sky and the surface. I would never push below that. But if you could defend against the top, that shield would prevent me from going any deeper anyway."

"How can I trust you?"

"How could I make you?" He paused, and she could sense him willing her to understand, selfishly but not deceitfully. "Look, either we do this or we don't. Regardless, Snoke will absolutely probe you later, so you might as well take the chance and attempt to prepare yourself with me. I, unlike Snoke, have already seen into your mind and I don't currently intend to kill you because of what I saw."

She looked down to her limp fingers resting on her thighs.

After ten breaths of consideration, she said, "Ok. What do we do?"

Kylo regarded her, reflecting on her question. "It will be a process of experimentation. What I've done, which has been effective, is imagine an invisible, immaterial barrier existing around me. But I assume it would work like a muscle—it needs to be strengthened through repetition."

Considering this, Rey asked, "You will try to reach in, and I will try to imagine a barrier that stops you?"

"Yes, but initially let's have you reach in first."

She hesitated; surprised that he would allow her the benefit of reaching into his mind. He was taking all the potential risk of her probing him.

He seemed to see the tensing of her body, so he quietly but somewhat impatiently said, "You've already been in my mind. I have nothing more to hide from you."

_He can't be serious?_

She contemplated this for a moment, but decided she simply didn't have enough information to reason with the idea. So she decided to proceed and nodded.

Remembering what she had done by accident on Starkiller base, she focused all her attention on him, leaning forwards slightly, trying to imagine what he must be thinking, and feeling out with the Force to what was contained behind his eyes.

For a moment, she felt nothing, just what she saw on his expression—calm simmering with something darker—she pushed harder, feeling his Force signature in her chest, reaching with her breathing through it, tensing all of her torso in the effort.

Suddenly, she broke through; anxiety, frustration, wonder and curiosity washed over her, but not her own. They were isolated emotions that she could feel like heat or cold on her skin, rather than intertwined with her own. She pushed harder, and suddenly an image of the dunes of Jakku came to her, a vista that she recognized, but had not considered in a long time, and she realized it was his.

"Stop," he suddenly said, and she withdrew immediately.

"You went too far. You only need to go as far as my emotions." He said briskly, a tint of annoyance in his voice and anger gleaming in his eyes.

Instantly, she felt shame and regret. She didn't mean to invade his privacy—the mantle or core, as he had called it.

"I'm sorry," she said openly, and when she did, the anger slipped from his eyes, leaving them softer than she had ever seen.

She waited for a moment, watching him, and in this time he hardened his face again.

"I didn't hear any of your thoughts," she said plainly.

"I wasn't thinking anything specific at the moment. I will this time, so you can get a sense of what to expect."

"You would do that?" she said, surprised. She had expected the session to be over for now because of her transgression.

"Yes."

She nodded slowly, then inhaled and pushed into him again. Immediately, she sensed a thought, like a feather floating to the ground, trailing through the same emotional landscape as last time.

_You are very talented._

She pulled back, annoyed at the compliment. She did not want to hear anything like that from him. She couldn't imagine he would be sincere.

Evading recognition of his thought, she regarded him and asked, "Have you been trying to defend against me?"

"Yes." he answered evenly. "I was not trying to flatter you. You are very capable. But I imagine this will take awhile. Days, maybe even weeks of practice. And we will probably have to try many different techniques…"

He stopped, thinking for a moment, then continued in a different, more relaxed. "I'm curious to see how capable you are at defending yourself now. You forced me out at Starkiller Base, although I was not prepared for it. Are you willing to try again?"

Rey nodded silently, preparing herself.

"You ready?" Kylo asked, his eyes tentative.

"Yes."

He nodded, and then she felt the familiar push against her brow that she had experienced on Starkiller base, like his fingers were pressed against it—but there was no pain like there had been before. Still, she could sense him, like a magnet, pulling her thoughts—mental descriptions of the sensation and her wonder and mild alarm—towards him.

Reactively, she imagined a barrier in between her and him, an invisible layer that closely surrounded her and blocked him out. The magnetic pull did not end, but it lessened; grew weaker.

"I can feel it," he said, "try harder."

She imagined the wall growing thicker, stronger, clenching her teeth and muscles in the effort. But as the seconds drew by, she felt the inverse happening; the walls of the shields were growing thinner, then paper thin, until they disintegrated and his magnetic pull was completely unhindered again.

"I'm impressed," he said, "what did you do?"

"I just imagined something like a layer around me; a wall that resisted your pull, that grew and thickened."

He nodded silently, apparently unsurprised. "I felt it, and tried to push back." He paused, and scanned her intently. His eyes returned to hers, "Can you keep going?"

She nodded, still intrigued by how considerate he was being. She had imagined he would be a stagnant personality, but his incremental changes each day continued to surprise her.

"Yes."

 

* * *

 

They continued practicing, taking turns with the roles, for several hours. Frequently one would express to the other that they were making advances, which kept her motivation, and apparently his, high. It was not a tiring or difficult thing to practice—this defending. It was finally just slowing success that made them to decide to stop.

As she brought her thoughts back to herself, she ruminated on how his openness throughout the entire exchange had alarmed but also fascinated her greatly.

Watching him sit cross-legged in front of her, his honest though somewhat obscure expression remained relatively solid as he focused with remarkable endurance on the task. It seemed increasingly impossible that he was the masked figure that hunted her in the forest on Takodana; that stood on a long, narrow catwalk, watching the man he had put his lightsaber through fall into an enormous mouth of emptiness.

Here, Kylo Ren just looked like a man, tired and intelligent and still young.

And the emotions and thoughts she had felt in him for the past hour sustained this impression. She experienced in him a constant stream of frail concern, about what she didn't know. There was also determination of many shades, occasional confusion, annoyance, and breezes of wonder. But, the longer she felt these sentiments, the more notable this wonder became.

Initially, she just assumed it was a form of surprise at her ability to even have this bizarre exchange with him. She never tried to reach any deeper, so she never identified its source. But the wonder never faltered. Instead, it became more familiar, even more secure.

She would look to his eyes sometimes, and they would hold her gaze, guarded, but also gentle.

_Could he admire me?_

_No._

But he had given her two compliments already today. And she never once felt in him a sense of disdain, which she supposed might have been expected, considering their spar last night, and the fact she had never been pleasant or courteous towards him. She also was never rude, but she was certainly cold or at least detached.

Finally, he had looked at her, after successfully pushing her out more quickly than normal, even though she had gotten much better at holding her grasp, and he said, "Let's stop here."

She nodded, relaxing her tense muscles. "Will we continue later?"

He smiled, faintly, but undeniably. "No, I will be busy the rest of the day."

"Can I ask you a couple of questions then? Before you go?"

He stood up, but once he did, calmly said, "Ok."

"Who is Derisidem Ren?"

His gaze hardened instantly like freezing water, and he scanned her face for a moment before answering. "She is a Knight of Ren."

"Are you?"

"Yes."

"Then what are the Knights of Ren?"

"It's not complicated. There are seven of us. We work to realize the pursuits of the First Order."

Rey nodded, accepting that she would not be told any more about it now. She watched his face, which looked more tired and anxious than before, like he was apprehending a storm. She remembered how Anakin has suggested that she try to consider and ask Kylo Ren about his perspectives.

Quietly, she asked, "What are you pursuits?"

"What do you mean?"

"Anything. Whatever your immediate response is to the question."

He considered her for a moment, like he was analyzing a field of tall grass he wasn't sure he wanted to cross, and then responded, "I want to bring peace to as many people as I can."

A dozen averse and indignant reactions swept through her in response to that, but she didn't voice them. Instead, she considered the honesty resting in his eyes. It reminded her of settled volcanic ash.

"Do you feel like you have been able to do that?" She asked, feeling the intentional sincerity of her voice and hoping there wasn't any evident disdain in it.

He regarded her, not coldly, but guardedly. He opened his mouth to say something, then in a split-second, like he had changed his mind about something, hesitated and finally said, lowly, "Yes, I do."

The he turned and left the room without offering anything else.

Rey sighed, pushing herself away from a quickly growing thicket of questions and fascination.

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Sitting on her bed, having adoringly devoured a plate of fruit and cheese a protocol droid had recently brought her, Rey read through a document detailing the conflicts and politics causing many of the battles of the Clone Wars. She had been surprised to read now many things she remembered the Ithorian, Eteth, had told her about so many years ago. For so long she had been told by other occupants and passerby in Niima Outpost how fictitious and ridiculous Eteth's tales had been; bedtime stories for a child.

Suddenly, she felt the familiar presence of the Jedi Masters, soft waves of light rolling towards her.

The cordial, mild voice of Obi-Wan reached out to her from the empty space the waves spawned from. "Rey, may we join you?"

"Of course." She said, setting down her datapad and looking up.

All four of the Jedi Masters materialized in light before her, each smiling gently at her.

"Very well, you are doing." Yoda said in his gravelly tone, his eyes and lips lined with fondness.

"Yes Rey, we are very impressed with how gracefully you are handling the situation," added Obi-Wan.

Rey regarded them, touched by their openness, but slightly disconcerted. She, honestly, had not tried very hard to do anything but react to what was presented to her. Just earlier she had felt somewhat ashamed that she had not been more focused on her objective. She was unaccustomed to praise and it was beginning to frustrate her.

Ignoring any apprehension she may have demonstrated, Anakin spoke. "Kylo Ren is fascinated by you. You have become something of a threat, but he sees it as unintentional. He does not anticipate that you mean to hurt him. He sees you as honest and benevolent, as well as powerful. And this is causing him to admire you."

Obi-Wan interjected, "Rey, this is exactly what we were hoping for. You have started the path to his trust."

Anakin nodded, then continued. "As a result he is questioning his relationship with Snoke. That is another path that you can guide him on."

"But cautious, you must be." Yoda said. "Not too fast, should you go."

The Masters regarded her in silence for a moment, and she nodded carefully, folding her arms tightly in front of her.

"Rey," Qui-Gon said, "We know that what we are asking of you is more than should be asked of anyone. But we do believe every part of you is capable. Trust your instincts. You will be successful."

Rey considered this, eyeing the ceiling and the stars beyond it. "Do you know what will happen next?" she asked softly?

The Jedi Masters looked questioningly at each other, then Yoda finally returned his gaze to Rey, "Clouded, the future is. Difficult, to say."

"When you are alone here, focus your thoughts on the Living Force." Qui-Gon suggested, "You will find that as you practice exploring the life around you, you will become much more attuned to possibilities and become prepared to react to them."

He paused and Rey nodded quickly, eager to hear any more suggestions of a course of action she could follow.

Qui-Gon continued, "Try to avoid any speculation of the future. There is the possibility you may be misled. Try to keep you concentration in the present."

"He's right." Obi-Wan offered. "There are many disturbances here that will to interfere with the relationship you are cultivating with Kylo Ren."

Rey nodded, watching the Masters as they fell silent, seemingly finished with their suggestions.

Her mind went to the question that was born by what Kylo had said to her last night. _"Do you have any idea who you really are?"_ She had since contemplated if the Jedi knew the answer.

Carefully, treading softly into the open space of vulnerability, she asked, "Kylo Ren asked me if I knew who I was. Do you know what he is referring to?"

The Jedi exchanged a worried look, like the walls of a dam that had long threatened to fall and flood a city in its path were fissuring.

After a long moment, Qui-Gon spoke. "Do you remember your parents?"

"A little," Rey said softly, "What happened to them?"

"When you were found, you were already orphaned."

"How? What happened to them?” Rey breathed through a closing throat. She felt like she was being swallowed by sinking sands. Their weight pushing in until her diaphragm could not longer expand.

"Know, we do not.” Yoda said gently.

“Then why? Why was I taken to Jakku?”

Qui-Gon responded, his voice tender and gravelly, his eyes pouring compunction. "Luke found you. You were living on Chalacta, in an orphaned children’s home.”

“Why would he have found me?” Rey asked, feeling so hollow.

“He had been looking for you since your birth. We were aware of other looming threats in the galaxy that would attempt to find you.”

“Why?”

Obi-Wan, who had been watching Qui-Gon carefully as he spoke, moved his eyes back to Rey. When he spoke, his words were as soft as falling snow. “Rey, you already know of your connection to the Force. But it is no common connection.”

Qui-Gon responded, and here was something hardened in his expression, like igneous rock, “You were conceived and born as only one other known being has been."

"Me," Anakin said, his face soft. "I was created by the Force. I was an accidental conception in reaction to Darth Plagueis's - Snoke's - enterprises. A creation of light by the Force to balance the darkness of the actions he was trying to accomplish."

"But learn we did, by others who understood the occurrence, how to create another." Yoda said.

Yoda’s words hit her like a sand storm. The clouds of dust encasing her in a tempest of concussive wonder.

She was made? Through the Force?

A flower of resentment bloomed in Rey's stomach, its petals unfurling in melancholy questions about abandonment, manipulation and imposition.

"But why was I left on Jakku? Why would Luke take me there?"

Obi-Wan, his eyes sorrowful and heavy as lead, was the first to answer. "To protect you. Kylo Ren was once very close to Luke. An apprentice. We had sensed darkness in his future; destruction. Luke was determined to prevent Kylo Ren from falling to darkness, but he could not put you on a path that may have also contacted with this darkness until you were strong enough to protect yourself."

“And, now, you are,” Qui-Gon said quietly.

She felt numb, her petals frozen and cracking like dropped porcelain.

Her life, an endless drought of loneliness, was caused by _them_? Preserved by _them_? By _Jedi_?

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	8. Plasma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derisidem gets nosy.  
> Rey ponders some bewildering questions, then asks a special someone for answers.

 

"So, everything—every part of who I am, what I've done… is because of you? For what?"

The Jedi observed her, each carrying something different in their expression, but each plaintive, their posture radiating the tones of a still sunset over a quiet grove of bent and ancient trees.

Finally, Yoda spoke, his small body held low and penitent. "Need you, very many do. Your help, necessary became."

"Enough to indenture a person to a life of loneliness and sadness?" she retorted, her response embodying each word though its timbre as if they were part of her physical body.

Obi-Wan stepped forward towards her and she reactively pushed herself back, distrust flowing in her eyes.

"Rey, the things you have experienced could not be forgiven. We are so sorry for this. But it came to a point where we had no choice."

"You always have a choice." She said. Then, her stomach filling with gravel, she continued, "You had a choice in the Clone Wars. And you made it over and over and over. How many lives did you throw away because of those choices?"

She swept her eyes over each of their faces again; Anakin's was hard as durasteel, Obi-Wan's as soft as falling sand, Yoda's dim, but alert, and Qui-Gon's focused and sharp.

Again, Yoda was the first to speak, who quietly but deliberately responded, the weight in his voice greater than a mountain's mass, "Right, you are. The battles we began, already lost for ourselves, we had."

Qui-Gon, who had been watching Yoda speak, now turned his eyes back to Rey, embers burning gently inside of them. "There were many things we needed to learn, Rey, and we are grateful for your wisdom now."

"Wisdom?" She spat, shaking. "I'm just a scavenger from a wasted planet. I'm no one. What wisdom would I have?"

"All that we could hope for." Qui-Gon responded softly.

She regarded him for a moment, his sincere, unwavering gaze so similar to Han Solo's. Then she turned her head and looked to the far wall on her right, drawing her knees to her chest, tears brimming in each eye. "Please leave me," she whispered.

The Jedi consented, each bowing to her in different degrees, and then faded silently away.

Rey inhaled deeply then rested her forehead in the cradle of her arms and knees.

 

 

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That evening Derisidem stood with the other Knights of Ren behind the long, polished conference podium where the Supreme Leader sat.

General Hux's prim body was holo-projected in the center of the spherical, entirely glass room.

"The Finalizer was docked with the rest of the fleet this morning. The most recent account of our losses entail 3,842 troops. There has been no determined effect yet on the resiliency of our telecommunications systems that were linked to the Base. However, we have concluded that the architect Nilh was a casualty." His brisk voice was determined, but rattled like empty, splintered branches after a windstorm.

Snoke was silent as he regarded Huz with unblinking eyes. Into the dimness of the room he calmly stated, "Contact Erudo Ro-Kiintor and tell him to begin preparations. Then, inform the Coporate Sector Authority that they may proceed with the distribution. You may begin to place troops in the designated locations."

Hux nodded quickly and held himself taller and straighter, his eyes occasionally flitting fox-like to Kylo Ren and the Knights who stood behind the Supreme Leader’s throne-like seat.

"You may go." Snoke said quietly, and Hux reached forward briskly to end the holo projection.

Afterwards Snoke remained as still as alabaster in his polished chair, gazing into the calmness of the moon's surface. The air in the room felt heavy and thick, but deprived of oxygen.

Derisidem and the other Knights of Ren had treaded the uncertainty of the Supreme Leader's pensive calm carefully after the destruction of Starkiller Base. But here stood Kylo Ren, continually and unusually unmasked and milder than she had ever seen.

Normally his eyes carried plasma, but today they carried water. Derisidem could never remember seeing that before.

It could only be the _girl_ that was responsible for his behavior.

_He must be so pleased to have such a charming task as his final vehicle to becoming a Sith._

She did assume the girl was charming. Kylo Ren was not immune to human charms. And the girl must be very impressive in whatever skills she had to offer. Any being that could enrapture the Supreme Leader's attention enough to be brought to Mannassar and trained by the Master of Ren must be.

Derisidem herself was impressed by the Force energy that cascaded from the girl in flowing ripples of light.

Yet, Derisidem knew very little of the situation that surrounded the girl.

She turned her eyes back to Kylo, waiting. In a moment, Kylo bowed to the Supreme Leader, turned and walked out of the room. Derisidem followed him.

"Kylo." She said once they had moved far enough away that no one would overhear them.

He stopped and turned to her, his eyebrows raised and his lips firm.

She considered her question carefully. "Will the girl be one of us, eventually, assuming that is the Supreme Leader's intention?"

His face darkened and the familiar neon burn returned to his eyes. However, this was not the reaction she would have expected from him for this question.

"Perhaps." He replied shortly, and turned to leave again.

Derisidem was not satisfied with the response. She needed to know more. Each of the Knights of Ren were jockeying for elevation. If Kylo Ren became a Sith, his position Master of Ren would become available to another. What was the girl capable of? Even if she had no chance at the coveted position that Kylo had swept into 5 years ago, was she to become one of them at all? All of the Knights of Ren had been highly skilled and talented Force-sensitive combatants when Snoke enlisted them into his and Kylo Ren’s command. Derisidem had no reason to think this girl was any different.

"Well enough to be a Knight of Ren?" she asked.

Kylo's eyes scraped across her face, analyzing it. This also puzzled her; her question should not have been surprising or forward to him.

"I do not know the Supreme Leader's full intentions." He finally conceded in a lighter voice than she had expected from his expression. But he was being honest. This was one of the things she appreciated the most of her Master. Her people, Mirialans, were much more bound to truth than humans; they believed that deceit is bred of weakness.

"Then what training is she receiving?"

Kylo looked away from her and moved to leave.

"Master, please. I'm very curious"

His dark, gleaming eyes returned to her. "Stay out of this, Derisidem." With that, he turned and walked away. She knew better than to follow. The only being that was not at danger from Kylo Ren's elastic rage was the Supreme Leader.

However, something was wrong. Kylo Ren had no reason to be secretive about Snoke's prisoner. The Supreme Leader had always made each of the Knights of Ren feel welcomed into his fortress of transparent walls. Snoke made clear their roles of hunters and protectors, but also made evident the design of the machine they were part of. In this machine, their significance as individuals paled to the purpose of the First Order. Only Kylo Ren had any influence or individuality, which all of them resented.

But none of them had been brought in chains and under a veil of secrecy, like this girl had. Whatever it was about her, she was extremely valuable and desirable.

Therefore, it was troubling for Kylo to be hiding this information from her.

She wanted to know why.

As soon as Kylo took the girl from her room the next morning, when she had been told to deliver a fresh set of clothes, she would install a camera.

 

 

* * *

 

Rey slipped into the new tunic that had been left for her, chewing on a mouthful of bread that had been placed with the garments. The dark, rich loaf was delicious, nothing like the dusty, strong smelling rubber she used to devour ravenously on Jakku.

But it was with a tight throat that Rey swallowed her mouthful, tasting the bitter, melancholy memory of her life in the desert. The idea had been had been churning through her all morning, like abrasive wind and sand.

Kylo Ren had come this morning, and she was in some small, disobedient way, glad for his presence. He was still a monster, but he wasn't threatening her. And he was company.

He had brought her another delicious breakfast, as he had each day since her arrival. Today she forced herself to eat each bite deliberately slowly, trying to appear indifferent, pretending it was not a wonderful gift. She couldn't remember the last time she had eaten anything on Jakku other than the veg-meat and the powdered bread. Eating as much as she wanted of these large plates of delicacies, even here in her cell, filled her mouth with the salt of tears.

After she had cleared her plate Kylo had asked her if she wanted to go outside again today for their training session. She had agreed, hiding a smile at his consideration through clenched teeth. She longed to see the openness of the indigo and silver horizon again.

And somehow, the twilight made Kylo seem less menacing. His darkness faded amongst the faint colors of dusk to a deep blue.

When she said yes, she would go with him, his expression gleamed like a stone at the bottom of a river pierced by sunlight. But he quickly pulled the glow back down under his dark eyes and coarse fabric wrappings.

They had walked further through the prairie this time, mostly just listening to the vibrations of insect wings.

Occasionally Kylo would ask her questions about Jakku. _What did her days scavenging consist of? What were the other scavengers like? How did she learn melee combat so well? How was she educated? Why didn't she have any friends that were her companions?_

Between each question he would walk in silence for several minutes, as if considering her response. In these wordless breaks she had begun to feel an increasing sense of anger. Not at him, but in general; at her situation on Jakku, and specifically at the Jedi Masters who had forced her into that desolate life.

How coincidental, as if he had known what he was doing.

_Did he? Was he deliberately goading her into further distrust of the Jedi?_

He had shown no indication that he had any idea about the Jedi Masters' occasional presence in her room or their conversations with her. So, she figured if nothing had happened yet as a result of him knowing, he couldn't possibly.

For whatever reason, she knew he was just trying to make her angry… perhaps to make her more influencable, like heated metal.

She reveled that at this point she still didn't really know what he wanted.

_What does he want to make me into?_

Obi-Wan and the other Masters had told her that Snoke wanted for her to eventually become his apprentice, like Kylo Ren currently was, which was completely ridiculous.

But they had never explained why Kylo was willing to play along and fulfill this idea.

Especially when he was teaching her how to defend herself against Snoke.

Kylo had said he was doing this defensive training because Snoke would want to kill her as soon as the Supreme Leader realized that she was not interested in being part of his construction, and that she despised the First Order and everything it meant to do.

But why would Kylo protect her rather than just share this information with Snoke and kill her?

Anakin had told her that Kylo admired her, but that didn't explain why a nefarious leader of the First Order would just decide that he likes a scavenger girl enough to spend casual time with her and protect her from something she fully resents but is supposed to become a part of.

After they had walked for at least an hour, they sat in the grass together. There they had continued to practice preventing a mind probe. Later, he explained the concept of telekinesis through the Force and how he would soon teach her how to manipulate her midi-chlorians to perform it herself.

After, he walked her back to her cell. He smiled at her before leaving. He said he would be return in three hours. He asked her if she wanted or needed anything.

None of this made any sense. She was completely shrouded by cobwebs of dust and ambiguity.

But what of his efforts to make her feel anger? If not to direct her anger towards the Jedi Masters, what would be the point?

Anger only leads to suffering. How many lessons did she realize that from? Hating the other scavengers who would steal from her, hating Unkar Plutt who would give her a fraction of what she was due, hating the heat of the desert. Eventually she had to stop hating—it did nothing but follow her like a burning shadow, reminding her how hot the sun was and how nothing could be done about it.

She could hate the Jedi Masters now. But did they deserve it? Did they intend for her to suffer on Jakku? She was sure that they didn't, not in the sense that they wanted to hurt her, even if they fully knew her life there would entail sacrifice.

But the Jedi were known for making sacrifices. Eteth had once told her that being a Jedi required leaving your family and having no relationships or material possessions. Being a Jedi meant living through devotion to and respect for others.

But did she deserve to experience these sacrifices when she was never given a choice?

They said she could help people.

Yet, did they really think she was capable of what they were asking her to do? To tame the beast Kylo Ren? It was unimaginable.

However, who else would? The Resistance must have been fighting against Kylo Ren and Snoke and the rest of the First Order in some way for 30 years, and nothing had indicated they would be successful. The First Order grew like a pandemic virus, and nothing had slowed it. Now the New Republic was gone.

There was only one living Jedi left, and he had disappeared.

She thought of Qui-Gon. He was part of the others, but he seemed different. He was forth-wright with her. He seemed to recognize her first as a person, rather than just a purpose-made Force bearer. More so, he seemed to appreciate how bewildered she was by the entire situation. He did not just insist on telling her she could do this unreasonable task—somehow ensnaring the infatuation of Kylo Ren so she could encourage him to abandon the First Order and overturn Snoke. Qui-Gon spoke to her of the world outside Jakku or Snoke's moon, something none of the others had done.

She had spoken to him once alone, and she realized she wanted to again.

"Qui-Gon?" She said into the emptiness of the room.

His response was immediate, calm and warm. "Yes, Rey?"

"Can I speak with you?"

"Of course" he said, his voice joining with his materializing figure. "How are you?" he asked.

"I'm angry," she answered, deciding to be honest.

Qui-Gon studied her for a moment, his face somber. "You have every right to feel anger, Rey."

Her lowered eyes lifted to him, surprised by his omission.

"But no individual chooses to be born," he continued gently. "We can only choose how to react to the circumstances we encounter."

She regarded him silently for a moment, slews of varying emotions running up and down her limbs. Finally, she exhaled deeply and said, "Why are you asking this of me? Why not Luke Skywalker?"

"Luke Skywalker is not capable of what we are asking of you."

Her mind raced. Luke Skywalker? The Jedi who defeated Darth Vader and ended the Empire? How could he not be capable?

Qui-Gon continued, "Luke Skywalker is very powerful, but he does not have the inherent nature of a Jedi.

"He was trained when he was much too old, and though his actions were extraordinary he could not carry on our Order alone. The Jedi are not warriors, we are peacekeepers. Because of his experiences before his training Luke was never able to control his inner passion or turmoil enough to fully understand the Code or the will of the Force.

"We could not continue the Order ourselves as the Force would not allow it. Luke was our only option, but he needed help from someone who was capable of what he wasn't."

"Me?" Rey asked, disbelieving.

"Yes, Rey, you may not know the Code, or have been taught the ways of the Force, but everything you need to be or know you already embody."

Rey consider this in silence for a moment, still incredulous, but pulled by curiosity. "Could you tell me the Code?" she asked.

Qui-Gon smiled softly at her, and then answered, "There is no emotion, there is peace.

There is no ignorance, there is knowledge.

There is no passion, there is serenity.

There is no chaos, there is harmony.

There is no death, there is the Force."

Rey waited, expecting more, sure there had to be more. Everything he had said was just a list of truths she had lived by for most of her life. When Qui-Gon did not continue, she said, "That's it?" and when he only nodded, she mused quietly, "But it's so simple."

Qui-Gon beamed at her, his smile full of the crisp, shining light of a sky after rain, "That is why we believe in you."

 

* * *

 

Derisidem watched her tablet playing the video of Rey staring at open air, speaking to something that wasn't there.

But the girl was not just talking to herself.

Then, as suddenly as the girl had started talking she abruptly stopped, looked away and lay down on her bed, silent and motionless.

Derisidem rose swiftly. The girl had spoken about Luke Skywalker and something she had been asked to do instead of him.

_The Supreme Leader needs to know about this, now._

_._

_._

_._

_._


	9. Willows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shit hits the fan, and is cleanly swept away.

 

Derisidem paced down the hallways, uncertain where she would find the Supreme Leader. Most of his fortress was restricted to him alone, and he spent most of his time secluded in his private wings.

Normally, she would never see him unless called for a specific assignment or private counsel. All of the Knights relished these opportunities; seeking Snoke's reserved but charismatic presence like a beloved grandfather. But only Kylo, the master, was permitted to seek Snoke out for his own purposes. Each of them longed for this right.

She had chosen her name, Derisidem Ren, 12 years ago. Kylo had conscripted her from her home where she was a young prodigy of a rising generation of Sun Guards. Joining the Knights of Ren she continued her combat training and study of Sith lore. Also, already sympathizing with the First Order for years, she spent much of her time gathering and analyzing information on the New Republic's dealings to inform the Supreme Leader's plans. She was highly Force sensitive, but the Snoke forbade the use of her abilities to manipulate the physical world.

With one exception, none of the Knights of Ren would be taught or allowed to use the Force until they became the Master of Ren, currently the elite right and privilege of Kylo.

Snoke required that the Knights reserve their Force ability to be used exclusively in aiding their intuition and reflexes in combat. This they did very well. They fought not so much like a machine, but like a virus that could not be predicted or controlled.

Still, all of the Knights watched Kylo Ren practice his arts without restraint, and loathed him for it.

As Derisidem turned the corner into a common area she saw Tsind Ren, a son of a Death Watch leader, sitting in front of the Hypernet projector. He lounged in his chair with predatory confidence, wearing a mask but apparently absorbed in an interview of surviving Republic Senator Erudo Ro-Kiintor discussing potential legislation on ending the New Republic's paradigm of relative disarmament. She smirked at the thought of their flurried political scramble.

She went to Tsind, who ignored her approach. She spoke clearly anyway, "Tsind, I need to speak to the Supreme Leader. Do you know where he is?"

The Mandalorian turned from the projection and regarded her, though she could not see his face. His ornate, cubism-inspired antique armor still spoke for the Knight's glamorous heritage and calculated behavior.

After a long, heavy moment, he finally responded, "No. Why aren't you asking Kylo Ren?" His question did not conceal his contempt; none of the other Knights approved of her abnormally close relationship with the favoriteed fallen Jedi.

Derisidem glared at him, her eyes resting on his pike, slung across his shoulders like a child's skeletal arm, ground to a blade. He would not need it here, but never separated himself from it.

"I don't know where Kylo is." She snapped in response, feeling the pleasant purr of anger rising in her stomach.

After a long pause, Tsind spoke again, his mask-distorted voice rough but coy, "Why hasn't Kylo been wearing his mask?"

Derisidem eyed him, annoyed by the change of subject but also beginning to feel a tinge of apprehension. Her relationship with Kylo had never presented a threat to her before, but she knew the other Knights would seize any opportunity to let it. And with Kylo behaving so usually lately, especially after the destruction of Starkiller Base, which had some very loose ties to him, it would not be opportune now for her to be associated with him. And that is why she needed to see Snoke; to protect herself and to pave her own path.

Now cognizant of her expression hidden behind her own mask, she said through forced disinterest. "He lost it."

"Lost it?" Tsind scoffed, his contempt flowing thicker. "He should have another by now."

Derisidem clenched her teeth. She did not disagree. And the truth of what Tsind said slid down her spine like a jagged fingernail.

Each of the Knights was required to have a mask at all times, and that Kylo had not procured a replacement yet was remarkable. Bile soaked her tongue. She had connected herself to this person, and now Kylo was brushing his invalidity off onto her by his proximity. She had tolerated the antagonism of the others before because Kylo was the strongest, but she was beginning to wonder if that would remain so.

He should have known about the girl. _Unless he already did_... But what _was_ the exact nature of his fascination with her?

At that moment Xle Ren appeared at her side.

"What are you doing, Derisidem?" The lithe Vahla asked curiously.

"I need to know where the Supreme Leader is." Derisidem said, turning to the hooded Vahla. She reminded Derisidem of the grass that grew in the prairies Snoke had brought to Mannassar. She was slender and pale under her layers of darkness, but she was always remarkably unemotional; glacially detached from those around her.

So, it was with indifference that Xle asked, "Why?"

"I have information about our tenant that he should know immediately." Derisidem responded, considering Xle's impassable mask. Derided had only seen her without it on four occasions. Of all the Knights, Xle carried the most shadows in the lines of her face.

Derisidem could sense Xle considering the statement. Though Xle was normally reclusive, withdrawn into her intense martial arts training regimes, recently she had often been summoned by Snoke for his ongoing studies of the Force. He would observe her and conduct small studies of her shrewd Force sensitivity inherent to her species, which was naturally prone towards embodying the dark side.

Derisidem could only imagine what these observations entailed, but she envisioned nauseating images of Snoke's long fingers dipping into Xle's mind and pulling the layers apart like paper-thin sheets of skin to analyze them. However, Xle never spoke of her experiences.

"I actually just left him in the willow garden." Xle said quietly through the lacquered metal covering her face.

Derisidem nodded and immediately swung in that direction, her cloak trailing heavily behind her.

 

* * *

 

 

"Supreme Leader" Derisidem said, slinking to her knees and then sitting on her heels, her head tilted down in deference before the tall, somber Muun.

"Yes, Derisidem Ren?" he answered mildly, his gaze remaining on something in the distance.

"I have information regarding the girl that the Master of Ren is training."

Out of the corner of her eyes she could see Snoke lift his austere, penetrating gaze to her in curiosity, "You have had contact with the girl?"

"Only once, to move her from the detention block to her quarters. However, I have felt apprehensive about her, so I admit that I installed a security camera in her room." Feeling the cold pressure of Snoke's gaze on the back of her neck Derisidem stared hard at the pale, glowing soil.

"Is she aware you have done this?"

"No, Supreme Leader. Not that I know of."

"Then what have you seen?"

"I've seen her speaking to someone or something invisible. She said the name Luke Skywalker. She also said, 'Why am I being asked to do this instead of Luke Skywalker?'"

The words Derisidem watched girl say had circulated over and over in her mind, like the swift rotation of a gleaming moon. She had imagined Snoke's reaction to them. Perhaps he would be pleased and blooming praise. She had wondered if there were any rewards she would be offered: a trophy of some desirable artifact or a raised estimation of competence and prestige, inching her closer to the position of Master.

However, Snoke remained as indifferent as the cool air surrounding them.

"Bring her here," he said simply.

 

* * *

 

Rey carefully considered Derisidem Ren, who was once more leading her by her neck with the wire lasso through the gleaming glass and stone hallways of the compound. However, she was not bound in cuff links this time, which was interesting.

Rey reached through the Force to feel the robed figure in front of her. Derisidem was trailing a mild Force signature of fast, short vibrations, rippling away in dark tendrils. But that was all. Rey still knew nothing about her, not even what her face looked like, as her mask always covered it. Rey considered what she might find if she peered in the top layers of Derisidem's mind, and realized she had no idea what it could be. She never would, though. Not even to a captor.

Still, Derisidem reminded Rey of soot, or char. Broken, blackened pieces of burnt things.

Unlike Kylo, who was like fire. Or flashing black bird wings.

Where was Kylo? He had said he would be back this afternoon. And he had said nothing about Derisidem.

Suddenly, Derisidem turned and led Rey through a stone door and into the half-light of an outdoor garden.

Drooping limbs of ashy willows surrounded them as she was led down a path. The trees groaned languidly at her in the wind like old men remembering their youth. She felt the tips of their sinewy branches reaching out and brushing against her hands, begging to be noticed.

Rey breathed calm into herself.

Derisidem led her behind a wall. On the other side was a fountain, lapping quietly below a gargantuan black willow. Its bows cascaded lethargically towards the ground like a frozen river, but glowing, irregular crimson bioluminescent markings gave it the appearance of oozing plasma.

Within a parting of these branches were two benches. On one sat the tall, elongated figure of a Muun, whose hands were folded neatly in his lap. From his elegant, heavy robes extended a lank neck and then an ancient, carnally intelligent face wrought with mutilations.

His large, shining eyes that regarded her were deeper than the infinite pit Han Solo had fallen into.

"Rey." Snoke said smoothly, his resonating voice reminding her of the groan of the sinking fields. "Why are you here?"

Rey's stomach coiled in response to her question. _Why would he ask me that?_ She tightened her jaw, considering her response, then said, "Because Kylo Ren brought me. Because you want to use me."

"What would I use you for?" Snoke asked, almost indifferently.

The coil of her stomach tightened, like a snake had found its way into her.

"I wouldn't know." She responded quietly; her voice and posture were steady, but her fingernails curled into her palms.

"Yes you do," he responded quickly, then paused. "However, I do wonder if there is another reason you are here. You have been sought for so many years. Perhaps too many to be finally be discovered and so easily brought to me."

Rey's mind lashed to the thought of the Jedi Masters. To Jakku. To the indeterminable faces of two people with dark hair and strong hands closed around her own tiny fingers.

Then she thought of Kylo, looking over a black-cloaked shoulder at her, ominous indecision in his posture. She saw him, not in her cell or the prairie or the forest, but in a plain fractured by plunging canyons, carved by ocher, seeping rivers.

Rey lifted her eyes back to Snoke, who was watching her with the curiosity of a child.

Suddenly, she realized what he was going to do. Each vein in her body seemed to clench as she tried to imagine a barrier to the coming mind probe.

Either it was too late or she was too weak. Unlike Kylo who had seemed to press in th straight thin line through her forehead, the sensation of Snoke probing was overwhelming. It felt like all of the willow reeds of the tree surrounding him had reached out to her, then up through the back of her jaw, around her crown encircled her mind with tight clawed fingers; each of them pressing like roots into her memories and sucking on anything they could identify; images of the deserts, the forests, the decaying bowels of star destroyers, the spicy scent of Finn hugging her back, data files of sociology, biomechanical engineering and particle physics, her crumbling AT-AT, the foam in the corners of Unkar Plutt's mouth, Han and the Falcon, Eteth and Shinnden, the ocean and the islands, ghosts of loving smiles, Maz’s castle and Luke’s lightsaber in her hand, Kylo sitting with her in the grass, and then, her encounters with Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan, Anakin, and Yoda. Qui-Gon telling her, _"We could not continue the Order ourselves as the Force would not allow it. Luke was our only option, but he needed help from someone who was capable of what he wasn't."_

Everything was bared to Snoke in one instantaneous moment of pulverizing agony, like glass being crushed under a bare, twisting heel. It could have taken a second or a day; the passage of time had failed to register for her, swallowed completely by pain.

Then he withdrew and she could feel in the suddenly vacated space the hot pulse of blood through every artery in her head, like boiling water.

That had not happened with Kylo.

Panting, each breath feeling like she was inhaling fire, Rey lifted her eyes to Snoke. He was regarding her placidly, his maimed face reminding her of the dunes of Jakku awaiting an approaching sand storm, still and dark under a brown sky.

After a long, pounding silence Snoke turned, looking away from Rey, and said lowly to Derisidem, "Return her to her room." dismissing them.

 

* * *

 

 

Kylo walked down the hallways towards Rey's room, away from the willow garden.

Snoke told him to kill her.

Snoke told him that he had seen how Kylo had been training her to resist a mind probe. Snoke said he understood how Kylo would want to protect himself, and why Kylo was using the girl to do this. But the insolence was a mistake. As a result, Kylo's only method of reparation would be to kill her.

Kylo know that Snoke was doing this as coercion, to hold ransom the title of Sith.

But with Rey gone, what could Kylo do to pay the ransom? How would he redeem and then promote himself?

He had stripped away every layer of his self to be called a Sith, replacing the sheets of his soul with the woven textiles of slag and silk.

He had discarded his father into a void for it.

Han Solo.

He had believed that when he did that he would cleanse a void in himself of tar.

He hadn’t.

Regardless, Snoke would not kill Rey because of one inevitable misdemeanor from him.

Rey had done something.

_What has she done?_

Kylo couldn't imagine what it would be. She had never given any indication of transgression since she had arrived on Mannassar, and he had seen nothing in her mind before, on Starkiller base or Takodana.

What was she capable of to cause Snoke to abort her? Snoke's obsession with her since Kylo had met him was as faint as a pulse, yet inexorably present. Now, Rey was like an object placed among the hundreds of invaluable relics in Snoke's collection. But Kylo had sensed how deep the roots of Snoke's infatuation had grown, though the obsession was meant to be hidden. The obsession was as fundamental to Snoke as his breath, visible only like steam in winter. Rey was more than a relic. She was an invaluable tool, perhaps the most invaluable.

Somehow the girl had been compromised beyond repair. Snoke had seen something incredibly damning and yet secret.

He thought of her eyes gazing curiously at him, and he considered the things he himself had seen through those eyes. The smooth lines of her jaw and back were always firm; not confident or stubborn, but certain. She was always certain about something.

_What is it?_

If he did not kill her, Snoke would renounce him. He would never be able to return to Snoke until he had completed the act.

But he needed to know.

And… her. He needed her.

She pulled him to her like a sun, and he was not ready to extinguish the first light he had seen in a darkness that had become infinite.

He would not kill her.

 

Rey invited him into her room before he had asked. Exhaling relief, he stepped through the door to see Rey standing there, her posture full of grace and composure.

Without thinking, he reached for her, then hesitated and pulled back his hand. She watched this without reacting and then looked at his face inquisitively. Her brows raised slightly, still traced with the memory of disdain, but now bearing a dark wonder.

Despite the cloud covering her brow, the acuity in her eyes still shined like an ocean under a sky full of suns.

Suddenly, he realized she was trembling, but not because of him- because of something else.

_She must know._

"We need to leave."

As soon as he said the words, the white tiles of the floor went dark and a numbing, overwhelming bass filled the hollow room so fully it felt like they had plunged underwater.

"What is that?" Rey asked, her eyes still holding his.

"Snoke," he responded, the word feeling like seeping clay filling his mouth, blocking his throat.

Rey regarded him with wide, searching eyes.

He knew they only had moments. Quickly, he pulled a device out of his robes, a small remote. Pushing a button on it the electron shields covering the glass ceiling immediately receded.

"We need to get out of here through the ceiling. I can lift both of us. But you need to let me hold you," he growled, pleading.

Rey scrutinized him for a moment, her expression completely indiscernible. Then, to his astounded relief, she nodded and stepped forward. It was like he had somehow convinced water to be carried in his arms.

He wrapped his arms around her waist, allowing himself to consider that it was the first time he had touched someone in years that was not in attack. He felt her arms warily return the embrace. She had no reason for trusting him, but she was.

For just a moment he marveled at how secure her hold was; how muscular her lean body felt pressed against him.

He lifted his hand and willed the ceiling to collapse into a million motes of starlight, raining down on them like hail.

Then he leapt, using the Force to lift them. She held to his shoulders as they breached into the twilight air and landed on the roof. Immediately Kylo lifted his arms from Rey, searching her face to see if she was still complacent. Her eyes met his with concern, but not aversion.

He looked down to the darkness of the pit beneath their feet, feeling her doing the same.

Then, he turned from the pit and tore away with her beside him towards his ship, a hundred meters away through roaring cerulean wind.

 


	10. Exodus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey gets some insight to Kylo's humanity as they flee Mannassar.

 

They rip through the air together towards Kylo's ship. 50 meters from the descending ramp, an opening jaw. Rey looks back towards the shattered ceiling of her cell, dread blossoming in her stomach like clouds of ink. But there is nothing there, just darkness.

Out of the corner of her eye flashes a ripple. A shaking cloth hung in the wind. She turns her head to the right and sees something she doesn't immediately understand. A black cloak, quickly expanding and approaching them, blocking out the sky behind it.

"It's a dust storm. Snoke is doing it," Kylo rasps beside her. "It will jam the ship's navigation."

Rey looks back to the Upsilon command shuttle, waiting for them like a couching bird extending its wings in preparation for takeoff. It is maybe another 25 meters. Maybe they can make it.

She has done this run before. On Jakku with Finn; sweet, bright Finn. But then she was cutting through sunlight in a reality that made sense to her, as much as it could. She was complying with the simple rule that when someone is shooting at you, you run.

She could run then and she can do the same now.

She has passed too many years of squirming through decrepit ventilation shafts, from the grips of emaciated predators, and in the suffocating heat and loneliness of the desert to be caught here.

So, she closes her eyes and inhales deeply, feeling for the Force.

It's there.

All of the light in the dim moon's atmosphere is ready to surge into her at her beckoning and lift her away.

She breathes it in, absorbing it, and it crackles around her, engulfing her in an intoxicating sense of ability; the opposite of drunkenness. Her palms pulsate with heady static electricity, and she knows she can do whatever she wants.

She pours her focus into her legs, threading the coursing energy through the repetition of their rotation. With her next inhalation her legs lurch in response, like leaves blowing from their branches in a windstorm, and the world beside her blurs.

She reaches the hatch and enters the waiting mouth of the ship, following the path through its belly that leads directly to the cockpit.

Sliding like water into the co-pilot's seat, she starts engaging the engines on theory. The ship purrs at her touch, a friend already.

Then Kylo is behind her and leaning over her shoulder. She watches his fingers dance across the controls and sees that the coordinates he enters into the navigational system will take them to the Outer Rim.

He sinks into his seat, already flipping levers and pressing switches with the grace needed to catch a hummingbird. She works on the process with him, her fingers twice brushing against his. She feels each touch too intensely, like an iron had burned her fingers. Then, he ignites the fusion reactors and sets the hyperdrive.

A ragged stone fills her throat.

Kylo is going to jump to hyperspace from the ground, just like Han Solo had in the Falcon.

The stone falls to her stomach, expanding and filling her with the taste of vinegar. The thought of Snoke is gone. Instead, her head is filled by the billowing crimson presence of Kylo Ren. He is taking her somewhere she doesn't know. And she is letting him.

She's never let anyone do that since she was left on Jakku.

Rey lifts her eyes to the cloud of darkness rushing towards them, suddenly curious what this alternative nightmare might entail if it caught her. Would it be preferable? Then, the streaming star-lines of hyperspace fill the glass and she knows she won't find out. Not yet.

 

* * *

 

 

Panting, Rey watches the tunnel of periwinkle blue swirl before them for several seconds before she looks to the tall, elegant, black figure beside her.

He is reclined in his chair regarding her with the most solemn face she has ever seen. It is as placid as the night sky.

It's funny; ever since he had first taken his helmet off for her, his expressions had usually been visible, ruffled like waves under wind, swirling and bubbling with anger, curiosity, frustration, arrogance. Whether he wanted to or not, he normally carried his emotions in his arms for the world to see. It had to be part of the reason he always wore his mask. She imagined the hidden disinterest, boredom, worry, self-disgust, and even humor his face must at times show behind the shield. They were colors that didn't match him, like cream or rose.

But now she has no idea what he is feeling. It's like he already sees everything inside her and his reaction already came and went. But still, as he looks at her right now, its like she's the only thing in the world he is concerned with.

"Will Snoke know where we're charted for?" she asks in aversion, feeling so raw in his eyes. The deep consideration in his irises is pushing against her familiar sense of self-protected detachment. She summons stiffness to the muscles of her torso, straightening her spine and pushes back into his gaze, engaging him with a will and grit of a scavenger.

Maybe Snoke would find them. But it would be finding a fleck in empty space between darkness, a grain of sand in a desert world.

Meanwhile, she is alone with this monster beside her, who is watching her quietly.

This murderer, of Jedi, of children, of his father, involved in the genocide of billions.

When he responds, his voice is softer, smoother than it should be for who he is, a drink down a dry throat.

"No. This is a place I have always held in reserve in case I needed an escape."

She balks. "Escape?"

"There has always been the chance that Snoke would attack me."

He says this with smooth certainty, which slips into her like a cold draft pressing through her skin.

"Why was he attacking you?"

"Because I did something I shouldn't." His eyes tighten, but she can't sense why.

"What did you do?"

"I decided to take you away."

Her breath hitches. This is no news, but hearing it again resurrects the quashed surprise she should have felt when he first entered her room. Now she lets it well in her. "Why?"

Kylo regards her silently, his eyes skimming all the angles of her face like he's trying to memorize a pattern. When he speaks, his face is as impassive as the night sky. "He asked me to kill you."

Rey considers him; his long, rough woven black garments, his loose, careless dark hair wreathing his asymmetrical jaw and the constellation of marks scattered across his skin, the simmering intelligence in his eyes. Everything about him that appears human is contradicted by his history. She has grown accustomed to seeing him as something like a machine, or a rancor, unthinking, and reacting automatically as if programmed.

But now he is looking very human.

"Why didn't you want to kill me? You've killed so many others."

His eyes widen at her statement, like she had just reached out and pounded the heel of her hand onto his face; his first sign of feeling since she turned to him in his pilot's chair. She starts to hear his heart beat like his booted footsteps.

"Any deaths I caused were necessary. Yours wouldn't have been."

"And Han Solo? What was necessary about killing him?"

Kylo's mouth opens slightly, but he says nothing. For a moment, she imagines the child he once was, long limbed and swift like a foal, uncertain about how to think or feel or act; if someone would love him or chastise him for his choice between flying ships or rocks through the sky. She watches the increasing tightness of his jaw and throat, the inching upwards of his shoulders, the muscles of his torso clenching like a fist. His veneer of composure is melting from the inside out, acid rushing into his eyes. He tears them from her down to his wrapped, insulated hands, fisted like shrapnel knots.

Then he stands and strides of the cockpit in three slamming steps, a thudding wave of black filling the doorway and then gone through it.

Rey sits back in her chair, breathing a muddled annoyance and relief at his departure. Then, a deep mechanical scream from the other room sears through the ship. It is the sound of metal walls being ripped apart. She feels through the space and senses nothing but him, but his presence back there is overwhelming and thrashing, like a large, screaming animal being held down by its throat yet fighting wildly for freedom.

Her hand sliding against the wall, Rey steps through the cabin lightly, her mouth dry.

He is in the crew quarters, surrounded by the leftover heap of wall material crisscrossed with glowing orange, seeping lightsaber lacerations. He holds the plasma blade like a whip. She watches him Force-pull the top right bunk from the wall and slam it against the opposite steel wall, screeching in a grinding metallic whine as it slides to the floor.

The, he turns his face to her, heaving snarling inhalations like his lungs were too large to ever be filled. The Force radiates from him in surges.

She stands still and lets him look.

He spins, flicking off the switch of his lightsaber, and instantly crosses the distance between them.

Before she even considers stepping back he reaches for her face and cups her cheeks in his gloved palms. His touch is jolting, but immediately she recognizes how very male he is, as well as human. Still, it feels like she is being held by something else; a thunder cloud maybe. He smells like charcoal and soil and his eyes are so close she can see a fringe of copper surrounding his pupils. And then she realizes what he is going to do. Stooping over her, his tall, lithe body blocking out the light of the cabin behind him, he presses his brow to hers.

Images pour into her, burying her like quick sand.

His thoughts, burning like stars and nebula, slash into her vision, pushing everything else out. Innumerable faces and places she doesn't recognize pummel her; filling her with emotions that grip her heart and lungs and squeeze so tight she can't breathe. And there is a searing hot fear in her stomach, like she had just been impaled by his lightsaber. But, trembling, she realizes that it is _his_ stomach. It is _his_ fear she is feeling in her own body, and it claws up her throat like it's trying to escape a charging beast.

Suddenly, she's in the Millennium Falcon again, in the co-pilots chair, and next to her is a Han Solo. He is twenty years younger and beaming at her with all the neon-bright love she ever wanted, when she was alone in the empty swells and ridges of abandoned sand and trash.

She is seeing Han Solo through Kylo's eyes.

Then, she's curled into the solid, curving lines of Han's large, warm chest. They are lying on a couch in a peaceful, sun-bathed room. She can't be more than five years old the way Han's enormous arms wrap around her body, holding her like a loaf of bread. His shirt smells like engine oil and grass. Han's rough, dry lips press into her forehead and she is flooded with a smoky sweetness; a happiness greater by a hundred than anything she has previously experienced.

Then, as tall as a seven year-old, she's looking up at Han. Flowers are scattered around her small, delicate feet with the petals plucked off, flitting away in the wind of a craggy, overcast mountain-scape. She knows Kylo had pulled the milky petals from their stems with the Force, and the resulting expression on Han's knowing face is enough to pull saltwater from her eyes in shame and grief. Through Kylo, she feels how Han never wanted his son to be a Jedi. Han wanted his son to be a mirror of himself, operating independently, operating on whimsy and exploit. She feels how Han felt the Force was a deceitful, selfish thing that contorts and corrupts too many beings to be trusted. She knows Han was terrified his son wasn't strong enough to stop it from mutilating his young soul, just like his grandfather wasn't.

Suddenly, she's surrounded by metropolis towers, skyscrapers reaching to the sky like arms of giants trying to escape the gurgling, groaning mess of the dark undercity below.

"Aren't you coming?" she hears herself saying to Han, standing in front of him at the base of a ship's boarding ramp. "I'm not coming back," the child Kylo says, his voice as quiet as a cut blade of grass swaying in autumn wind. It would be the last time he saw his father, and he wasn't ready. His heart is hanging in her chest like it weighs more than the ship behind her.

Han smiles at Kylo, just barely, like his lips will bleed out and crumble away if they're lifted too wide. His eyes are somewhere else, voids covered by clouds spilling anguish.

"I'll always be here. If you ever decide to leave."

"Only if I leave?"

"No— I mean, you know that if you're a Jedi you can't come back."

"Should I, then? Be a Jedi?"

"Ben—I—" Han looks at child Kylo like he is looking at his son's corpse.

"Your mother thinks you should. So does Luke."

"What do you think?"

Han Solo grimaces at him in agony, his mouth full of the air he is not inhaling into blocked lungs. She feels herself, Kylo, waiting, straining every muscle that can be felt, needing a response. Anything.

Han swallows and looks down.

But then, through a velvety blackness, Snoke begins to speak to Kylo, whispering soft words like gleaming silver veins and shards of glass. These are words that make Kylo feel powerful, relieved in his shuddering choices, and resolved. It's like he is breaking out of a cocoon, wet wings drying in the dark air and expanding outwards.

He just needs to fly away.

And he did, slipping into a maze of florescent white and grey tunnels. White-plated bodies shy away from him like sheep, while thin hands place themselves gently on his shoulders, caressing him. These hands offer him robes, layers of darkness to cover his wounds until the glowing lantern of his maimed heart is completely engulfed in the thick, heavy textiles. Meanwhile, the Force soaks into the fabric, sinking into his muscles and bones, until he can move the earth with it.

It tames the burning self-hatred that would otherwise overwhelm him.

It gives him focus.

When he looks at the night sky anymore, he doesn't see stars, he sees millions of private conversations from the surfaces of the galaxy's worlds blinking down at him. He sees how their inhabitants cannibalize on themselves, ripping skin from each other and swallowing it without chewing.

The Jedi, allowing these worlds to tear themselves apart by removing the individuals who tried to stop the self-destruction, to force order and restraint, were wrong.

And her. She sees herself in his mind. She is an open sky.

* * *

 

Rey emerges like breaking through the weight of a hundred fallen trees into the waking world. Her lungs retch uncontrollably, clutching for air. Kylo's hands are holding her up, his fingers gently woven around her arms.

She reaches out and shoves at him. The Force surges through her wrists like a pressure hose and he is flung from her.

He catches himself from falling with athlete's legs, though he shoots her a blaring look.

Words tear from her throat like sheets of paper. "Why did you do that?"

"I want you to know."

Well, she didn't need to. She was comfortable with her conceptualization of him before, like some beast that watched her from below the surface of an acid lake with shining eyes.

Yes, she had come to appreciate his politeness to her, his company in the desolation of her empty life transferred from one desert planet to a dusk moon. But that was enough.

Now she was here with him in another cage, and the human she had seen in him earlier was realer than ever. And he's hurting. She had always assumed he would have to, doing what he had done, but she never really expected to witness it.

Now, everything she had seen in his mind showed the reality of his very human pain, loneliness, and his need to be recognized.

She was looking at a man who was more like her than she thought possible.

But, if she is going to see him as human, she needs for herself to shine light on every part of her face. He has to explain himself.

"So, then, why did you kill him?" She tries to drive the question into him like claws, able to pull back and lift him away from the darkness of the tall grass of Mannassar. But the words come out dry and rattling. Still, he looks back at her like she had just pushed a blade through him anyway. As tense as a docked arrow on a bow, he hisses back a response.

"Why do you think?" it comes in a sneer, sarcasm dripping from every part of his long body as he leans towards her, taking a step forward, which immediately causes her to take one back.

She knows the answer to his question. It's obvious. Like the result of a large hole punched through the center of a person's body. Neither of them needs to explain the equation to the other.

But still, she needs to hear it. "Tell me."

She holds his gaze, daring him to charge. He doesn't. He turns away and paces to the back wall of the cabin, then leans against it, heavy in the shoulder. Silence follows for several long passing moments while she stands and watches. Eventually he speaks, his voice muffled through the distance and from how his face is turned away from her.

"I loved him, still. But I was required to do it." His voice is hollow. Stating facts.

"And you just decided it would be alright if you did?" Each word is an ice shard of disbelief.

"It is so much more complicated than you could possibly know, little scavenger." The words carry venom, but still, he says them softly with his fangs retracted. And she realizes that he is being honest, at least to himself. "Han Solo was wasn't there for me, or for the other people who needed him. He let himself be swayed into simple-minded politics and morals, wasting everything. So when I was able to take something from him that I needed, not just for myself, but for everyone that I am trying to protect and serve, I did. He owed it to me, and he does not suffer in death."

Rey holds another jarring response in. His tone did not seem vengeful and justified. Instead, the slouch of his shoulders turned away from her, the long line of his curved back leaning against the wall, carried remorse. It settles her more than his words could have even if they had fully expressed apology, regret, shame.

There could be no forgiveness for what he had done, and they both knew it.

From here, they could only move forward into whatever was going to happen between them after this; whether he would abandon her or hold onto her in wherever they went.

But she did not think he would just let her loose.

That was alright. She needed him for now, until she knew a way out without him.

Right now, her bones ached and all she wants is sleep and change. To be somewhere new.

And what of the Jedi Masters? What would they think of this?

She stands there in silence, letting minutes pass by as Kylo cools like a piece of molten basalt, but neither of them say anything. His Force signature swells and fades with his breathing, diminishing in intensity until eventually it is just pooling in soft ripples around him.

"Where are we going?" she finally asks, her jaw set, fresh hardened concrete.

He glances at back her from across the small cabin, but a gaping distance has gone up between them. She is looking at him from a thousand meters away. "We're charted for the Kathol Rift. Snoke won't find us there."

Exhaling in trembling exhaustion, she just nods, then turns and walks back to the cockpit. Scanning the flight instruments, everything looks good, so she sits in the chair, folding her arms against the cold and watching the tunnel of hyperspace. She feels him in cabin behind her still pressed against the far wall. She tries to ignore him, but her ears pound with the thundering of blood, hers and his; their hearts beating in time through the empty space.

 


	11. Eggshell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey and Kylo reach their place of refuge.

Rey rose to waking like a fish, languidly floating through the remnants of swaying anemone dreams. The ghost memory of gentle fingers embracing her jaw, stroking at the soft line connecting to her throat, gradually pulled her to wakefulness. The coldness of space was something she still hadn't gotten used to; goose bumps had littered the plains of her skin ever since that first flight with Finn. Although much of it, she was sure, was due to more than temperature. Now, however, she was warm. Reaching out with a blind, groggy hand she felt a woven garment slung over her shoulders. It was heavy and calming.

It smelled like charcoal and forest. Like Kylo.

Her eyes still closed, she tapped into the energy surrounding her and felt for him. His increasingly familiar signature waves were lapping sleekly out from somewhere back in the cabin.

Blinking into the darkness lined by the fine, pulsating lights of flight instruments, humming away like the soft burr of insects, she realized the ship had left hyperspace.

Now, looming in front of them were the still butterfly wings of a nebula. A face filling her view of the infinite sea of the universe. Its creamy gas clouds were sea-foam white, tinged with water-colored splatters of the palest bronze, solid as the walls of a limestone cliff and foreboding as a sandstorm.

She rose and the garment, a black wrapping Kylo had worn around his own shoulders since she first met him, rose with her. The weight of the fabric pressed down on her and it should have felt like an invasion- but it didn't. It felt contradictorily calming, like a thick layer of settling of dust over everything after a derecho.

He said he had saved her life.

It was inexplicable, but she believed it. She had always believed he was honest, despite everything. But she still hadn't fully analyzed how she felt about him or his most recent action, abandoning his own security to save her, to circumvent killing her. The bare emotions of her reaction to the fact were buried under a deep coat of sediment and detritus cleaved and spilled from her former perception of him. But she wasn't ready to go excavating. There would be time.

She peered through the doorway of the cockpit and saw Kylo sitting cross-legged in the center of the cabin, his eyes closed in meditation. Leaning against the doorway, she regarded him, knowing he must sense her himself. Not wanting to disturb him she waited silently. He looked so tired; creases crossing his face like fractured adobe.

Minutes passed by like leaves carried downstream. She thought of him, who he was at four, a hopeful, loved child. How at ten he was already darkening from insecurity. By thirteen he was burned and cold. Twenty, something else, something crippled and mutilated, scar tissue contorting him into a unnatural mold. Now, at nearly 30, he was a basalt mountain, carved by slow, steady glaciers, and crumbling.

Kylo opened his eyes and looked at her.

"What happens now?" she asked.

"I'm scanning the nebula for the planet. When it's found we'll go."

"Are there sentients on the planet?"

"Yes. They are reclusive, but they are said to be benign. As long as we don't threaten them, I've heard they will give refuge to travelers."

Rey nodded and Kylo said nothing else. She let her eyes wander over him. The variety of expression carried in his posture was simultaneously smooth, ragged, dark and shining as obsidian. He was watching her as if she were soaring, though she hadn't stepped or shifted from her spot against the doorway.

"What are you going to do now?" She asked quietly. She felt like she was learning braille speaking to him, her fingers tracing over the patterns of bumps, trying to pry miniscule motes of meaning from them.

Nothing about his physical body indicated him registering the question. She waited, holding his steady gaze, wondering. She was asking him to expose himself to her. To strip. He had already removed his helmet, his cloak, and now she noticed, his gloves. He had been wearing them when he had touched her earlier. She wondered whether the skin of his finger pads was coarse or smooth. His hands looked cold, pale with the faintest tinges of lavender around the knuckles. Did he feel as cold as she had, now that he had given her his cloak? No, surely he must generate the heat of an active volcano regardless of what he was wearing.

"I don't know." He finally said, stirring her from her musing.

The veil of detachment hiding his face had opened, just a sliver, but through it she could see relief, not just that, but furor. Not hope or anything so fully optimistic, but the inspiration of an animal that had slipped from its collar. It was growing like an emerald and peridot bud from a charred, splintered stem.

Abruptly, the ship shuddered violently, an animal shaking water from its pelt. She looked behind her but where the gleaming nebula had faced them there was only a starless darkness. Not the emptiness of space, but the fullness of something else.

Walls.

Reaching instinctively into the Force, nothing now felt different than when she had been in the cockpit looking at the nebula.

_But there has to be something._

Suddenly, it dawned on her that when she had woken up in the copilot's chair there _had_ been something. A thickness to the air, like heavy humidity. And _the warmth_.

She looked to Kylo, whose lips were slightly parted and his eyes up, scanning. But he did not look concerned. He looked aflame; like hearing pack predators howl at their catch.

If it had been Snoke, Kylo would have said something. It was someone else.

She flew back to her seat, examining the control panel; it was completely and inexplicably dark. Looking through the windshield she couldn't see anything through the glass. They were bound, blindfolded and gagged in this nothingness.

Kylo slipped into the chair beside her, rumbling with apprehension like the storm he was when she first saw him on Mannassar.

"Do you know what's happening?" Rey breathed, expecting alarm in response.

But his voice was only crisp and alert. "It looks like the Aing-Tii have found us."

 

* * *

 

The darkness lifted away like the opening jaw of a mouth, stuffing the cockpit with light. And the Force; it soaked the air with the same intensity of the overwhelming sunlight, sweet and warm.

As her light-blindness slowly dissolved she could see the walls of the cargo hold their ship laid dormant in. It was massive and curved organically. Beyond the hold's exit there was a landscape— a shore pierced with jutting ochre rock masses caped with ferns and lichen, resting in the sand like sprouts. The mossy rock formations continued past the wave-line into the calm mirror-like sea reflecting a pale sky.

Like a physical breeze, a sudden wave of almost tangible benevolence swept through her, mild and calming. It was not her own, but it felt intentional, like someone had put it there. Automatically, she knew it was from whoever had brought them here. And somehow it felt reliable, urging her to feel safe.

She looked to Kylo, who was already watching her. She raised her eyebrows, her body quivering in uncertain anticipation and coursing adrenaline, "Did you feel that?"

He nodded simply, his expression murky but glowing from some internal source of curiosity that she realized she also felt within herself. She scrutinized him. He was tense, but not dangerous, his hackles lowered. She realized that his behavior now was the same it had been when she would walk through the white grasses on Mannassar with him, tame and composed.

"What do you know about this world?" She finally asked, letting the need of the question break through the study of her captor. Or, somehow, impossibly, her guardian. The idea felt like smoke, clogging her thoughts and tingeing the taste of her breath. Instinctually, she cleared her throat.

Kylo didn't indicate notice, just responded, "I only know a little; mentions in the Jedi Archives that I recovered from the Empire's records. Jedi came here to be healed and to learn from the Aing-Tii—the sentients here. They're supposedly very Force sensitive."

She nodded, suddenly moved by an eagerness tugging at her like gravity to see the world outside the ship. She rose and he stood with her. They went, Rey moving in front and striding purposefully through the shadowy interior of Kylo's ship, past the ravaged crew quarters and down the descending hatch into the musky half-light of the cargo hold.

Kylo's ship lay flat on the clay-like floor. She crossed over it towards the outside; peering as she walked at the seamless, empty walls. There was nothing to see but dim hollow space.

Stepping down out of the hull into thick, temperate air she felt the sand sift beneath her feet, coiling her stomach in a bitter familiarity. She pushed her mind past it and looked back to observe the ship that had swallowed Kylo's, raising a hand over her eyes against the blaring light.

Then a glimmer in the periphery caught her eye.

A tall, graceful being was walking towards her on long, limber legs from around the end of the huge ship. Entrancingly arranged ivory plates entirely covered its bipedal body, reaching from its gently curving snout to its long, elegant tail. Delicately drawn motifs covered these plates in an intricate design, especially around its eyes. They were black sapphire orbs that shined like tide pools emulating starlight. Most remarkably, from its mouth extended six thread-thin jade colored tongues, which swayed in the air before it like sea grass, tasting and sensing the world in a purpose that was somehow obvious.

The same wave of benevolence pressed into her and she instinctually knew this alien was its source.

"This is an Aing-Tii monk." Kylo whispered from her side, his voice smooth as water.

Rey considered the Aing-Tii as he or she stopped in front of her, a froth of wonder rising from her churning apprehension of the last several days.

"Hello." She tried softly, hoping the Basic would be a shared lingua franca, but the Aing-Tii did not respond. It simply appraised her with its large, gleaming eyes for a silent moment. Then, it drooped smoothly into what could only have been a bow and a swell of calm ease rushed into her, extending from the monk to her through the Force as the monk's means of communication.

She smiled and tilting her head down, returned the gesture.

A note of contentment sent by the monk plucked at her heart. She waited for the monk to make the next move, but after a brief moment, it simply turned and retreated. _Already?_ She looked to Kylo, impossibly tall beside her and harshly dark in this too bright world, but he only watched the monk walk away with his mouth held in a firm line and his eyes impenetrable.

The monk stopped at the entrance to its ship's cargo bay, and with a gentle motion of one of its three-fingered hands, Kylo's shuttle obediently rose and sailed out of the cavernous hull to settle placidly like a tranquil moth on the sand outside. It was effortless.

The monk looked back at them once more and Rey felt a last injected aura of amity, then the monk turned again and continued nimbly around the curve of the massive ship. Rey swallowed the acrid incredulity begot by the abruptness with which she and Kylo were brought and then abandoned to the expansive emptiness of this shoreline. Soon after, the whale of machinery lifted into the sky and departed, fading quickly into the thick cloud of humidity.

Watching it blend into the distant air she recognized the growing fuzziness in her limbs and the bleary veil that had fallen over her eyes.

She turned to Kylo, "Do you have an atmospheric scanner?" Striking irritation prickled at the skin lining her collar bone for asking the question. She shouldn't need him. She shouldn't need anyone.

His eyes softened at the question, as if calmed by its neutrality and the necessary dependence. He nodded and silently turned back to his ship, relieving her of any more attention to the implications of the question.

She followed him, noticing the length of his powerful strides and the lines of his athletic body. He had never changed the thick tunic that covered his torso. What did his body look like underneath? The humans in Niima and the areas surrounding it had been frail, with sharp protruding bones and gossamer muscle straining tight against dark, thin skin. Finn had been such a stark contrast to the human flesh she had known, so robust and vibrant. But Kylo was different altogether physically; lean but authoritatively powerful with his height and his broad, muscular torso. How would Kylo's chest compare to the concave stacks of ribs with precious little meat she remembered from home?

He glanced back at her as he ascended the ramp into the hatch. She held his gaze for the brief moment, trying to pull meaning out of it, but only feeling in the dark and finding nothing.

He went to the cockpit, which was now purring gently, all systems back to normal. Navigating through and inspecting the ship's general user interface, he said plainly, "It's a Type II Atmosphere, but the only concern is that atmospheric oxygen is at 14%. It will take us some time to adjust, but we won't need masks long-term."

"How long are you planning on staying?" Rey asked quickly, suddenly feeling trapped at the idea of adjusting to the atmosphere.

Kylo turned and looked at her, the muscles of his jaw clenching. "I'm not sure. But we should be safe here. The location of the planet isn't on any charts I've been able to find, and trust me, I've looked. And, this nebula really should be impassable because of its size and the dense accretion of nebulaic material, which somehow is supposed to produce a barrier of hallucinations among Force sensitives. I was honestly just hoping the monks would come to us, because I truly didn't know if we would find them. But I've also heard that the Aing-Tii can be very protective of their privacy and… defensive."

"Defensive against what? They brought us here."

"They brought _you_ here. I have no idea if they would have actually brought me here without you."

"And why would they want me?"

Kylo didn't respond, he just regarded her, his mouth open in question with the spirit of a smile playing across his lips, then he shook his head gently. "You must know, Rey. Really."

She ignored him, "You said defensive. Who are they defensive against if not us?"

"Snoke, the other Knights, anyone from the Order. The monks have a reputation for attacking slavers, and the Order is certainly that."

Rey's breath hitched. _The Order is certainly that… a slaver._

_Yes. But what are you?_

Kylo held her gaze; stiffening like stone, as she was sure her own expression had itself hardened in abundance. But she had prodded him enough recently. She did not know him or his tolerance. The rage she had known in him since Starkiller, and the leaden turmoil she had discovered in him recently were too volatile to test. He was not going to attempt to harm her for the moment; she needed to keep it that way until she found a route of escape.

But that was the real question. Where would she escape to? And even if she knew, this sleek predator in front of her was more than impressive. What would it take to slip away from him?

His words slashed through her thoughts. "We have enough rations for months, and there's enough humidity in the air to condense forever. We'll be fine." His face was still hard, and he had internally retreated to somewhere far away again. But still, he was tame, controlled.

She lowered her eyes, inhaling deeply, retreating herself back to the soft lines of the dunes at night.

"I'm going to look around," she said quietly, and turned to stride softly back out to the sand.

 

* * *

 

She spent the night that arrived soon after tucked into the warm, soft sand, sheltered from the unknown starfall.

Kylo remained in the darkness of the ship that carried them there.

 

.


	12. Horizons

 

The one, white sun hung low in the beryl morning sky. Light drizzle filled the air with a vivid haze.

Lifting her head from her pillow of sand, Rey scanned around her; her eyes lingering briefly on Kylo's black ship, nestled into the in the distant beach like a sleeping bird with its head tucked under its long, strong wings. Beyond it were small, soft rises of earth littered with a pearly, low growing thicket of glistening bush. Swinging her head to the opposite direction, the tide lay quiet and still, glowing in the mild morning light of the sun peering over the ocean's horizon. She had spent most of yesterday evening wading through it, tracing her fingers along the small crests of its waves.

Hunger brushed against the walls of her stomach. There had been flowing jade leaves of some plant rooted into the floor of the sea near the tide line. It might be edible. Standing she brushed the sand off of her face and arms and went towards the water, eager to feel the conundrum of cool and warm against her skin again.

 

* * *

 

 

She had collected a pile of surprisingly delicious, briny seaweed, which lay in her sand-nest from the night before. Now, she was adding to another pile of sweet turquoise fruit resting in her her arms as she drifted through the fruit-bearing brush beyond the shoreline.

"Rey."

The steady voice she could now connect to the sound of the ocean came from behind. Turning towards it, she saw Qui-Gon waiting for her. A glimmer of a smile tracing his peaceful lips. He reminded her of winter on Jakku; the coolest season and the one time of the year that it would rain and the flowers by the sinking fields would grow.

"How are you, Rey?"

She considered it for a moment. In the half-dozen or so waking hours she had spent here, wherever she was, she had allowed her mind to focus only on her surroundings, free to explore a new, gorgeous world. Kylo had excused himself and slipped back into the ship soon after the departure of the Aing-Tii monk, which she had been grateful for. She still wasn't ready to think about him or what he had done. Still, she felt strangely serene; like everything was going to be alright.

"I'm ok. It's nice to be free."

"You consider yourself free while you're here?" Qui-Gon's inquisitive eyes brimmed with light.

She allowed the neutral taste of the word to linger in her mouth for a moment before saying it, "Yes." She had a world at her finger tips that was temperate and welcoming. Every world had its trials, but here, for now, she was free to go and face them as she chose to.

Qui-Gon nodded silently, his smile held in his eyes. "We had contacted the Aing-Tii to alert them you were coming once we determined the trajectory of your travel from Mannassar. They are are glad to have you here for a long as is needed, but they will be watching Kylo Ren closely. If he does anything threatening to you or one of the Aing-Tii, they will force him to leave, but they won't let him take you with him."

"Are they capable of doing that?" she asked, remembering how effortlessly the monk had Force-moved Kylo's ship yesterday; it might have been a stone the size of her fist.

"Yes," Qui-Gon responded with firm certainty.

Rey nodded silently, then considered how she had twice laid her training staff on his neck in that melee training session with Kylo, while he had never touched his to her. Still, he had always seemed as indestructible as a storm.

"Rey, you continue to exceed all of our hopes. But you must be careful. All human beings seek a sense of belonging to each other. Kylo Ren has been seeking this more than most for a very long time, and now that he has cut himself away from Snoke, he will be unstable. And, he will look to you. Trust your instincts, but protect yourself."

Rey nodded, feeling her limbs fill with iridium at the thought of the responsibility to Kylo. But she would do what she could. Perhaps it would do more good than a ghost or glance. Perhaps something could be regrown from ashes.

 

* * *

 

 

Kylo turned the refined lightsaber in his hands like a slowly rolling stone. It gleamed like water, catching even the dim light entering the ship from the open hatch. It was his grandfather's, from when he was still a Jedi.

Had it felt right? Being a general in the Clone Wars; a member of the Council? Vader was twenty-three when he had left the Jedi. Much older than Kylo was when he left Luke's brittle band of Force sensitives. What had taken Vader so long?

It was all such a contradictory mess. Denying the various vehement accounts of Vader's devotees, some said Vader had sacrificed himself for Luke when returning to the Light. Luke had told Kylo of the event once, while they were walking back from the Academy's training grounds at sunset. Amber light had coated the Jedi's face as he supposedly repeated Vader's last words, _"You were right about me. Tell your sister— you were right— "_ The caustic, lingering memory of Luke's sanguine smile remained so firmly visible in Kylo's mind he was sure he could draw a perfect representation today.

But Kylo had justified Vader's transformation for himself. The Empire had lost its purpose. The Emperor had grown bloated with directionless greed, and Vader saw the need to end the corrupted rule.

His mind turned to Snoke and an acrid taste filled his mouth. Perhaps Snoke too had lost sight of what was needed. Kylo honestly couldn't even say what Snoke wanted now; peace has always been the promise, but no more peace had come with each passing day than what had been lost. The Centrists had accomplished almost nothing.

Kylo rose and deposited the lightsaber back into the seamless Mandalorian iron safe, concealed in the wall of the cabin. Inhaling deeply into shuddering lungs he turned and glanced at the shining seascape beyond. He couldn't see Rey but he had been feeling for her throughout the night; her presence was as reassuring as the nebula enveloping the system in a shroud of anonymity. It had filled his veins with smooth, soft calm.

As he strode down the ship's ramp she came suddenly into view; her dark, borrowed robes clinging to her limber frame as if proud to be part of her. She was sitting in the sand, a ring of fruit skins surrounding her like flower petals. Approaching her the sky-bright glow of her Force signature contracted and expanded in languid strokes.

She had the force of the ocean.

Ten steps away from her she turned her head to look back at him. The way she looked at him was softer than he had ever seen before.

But it wasn't right. She had no reason to look at him like that.

Swallowing a burning stone, he spoke, forming his voice into a calm and firm tone. "Did you sleep?"

Something indistinguishable flickered in her eyes, then she nodded, turning her face back towards the ocean.

"What will you do today?" She asked evenly.

"I don't know. It's rare that I don't have anything to do."

"What do you normally do?" Genuine curiosity coated her voice, lifting the question up at the end.

He considered his answer carefully, moving through several terms before selecting one. "Research."

"For the Order or yourself?"

The question struck him in its sincere and inoffensive tone. It was very rare that he needed to explain his behavior or actions to anyone, and when those rare moments came, violence was usually a part of the exchange. But not with Rey.

"Both," he said.

Rey nodded, unbridled curiosity lining her eyes. He felt them cross over his body, and he realized he had not put his tunic or wrappings back on. The breeze brushed through his loose, dark under-shirt, pulling at it with gentle fingers.

Her posture seemed softer too, as if she had also dropped a layer of armor.

He took a step forward to which she held steady, so he kept going until he eventually drew level with her. She held his gaze then looked down to the ground beneath him, assenting to his company.

Lowering himself into the sand, he tightened his lips in gaunt amusement. He was sitting on a sunlit beach. It was a scene for another person.

Noticing his smile, the ghost of one crossed Rey's own lips. She looked away again towards the water.

"Is it strange being so close to someone else?" he asked, suddenly remembering the crushing loneliness he had felt within her from his probe on Starkiller Base.

Her eyes flew back to him instantly, startled and disquieted, as if she had seen a threat.

"What do you mean?" she said each word slowly, her eyebrows raised.

"You've always lived alone."

Her face relaxed but her lips tightened, just barely. She left her gaze drift away from him, instead focusing on something past him for a moment before responding.

"Yes." Her voice was soft but settled, honest. Her eyes returned to him, clear and emphatic.

The gentle, stretching cry of a bird sounded from somewhere, calling for its companion.

"Were you lonely? On Mannassar or wherever you lived?"

A bitterness coated his mouth, but he smiled and said. "I was." The truth of the words sank and swelled into the hollow of his torso, stirring images of a thousand drab, empty rooms; eyes and faces turned away when he approached; hours of silence so that when he finally opened his mouth to say something to someone, his lips had been pressed together so long they clung to each other. The Force had been his one friend, a constant, reassuring presence that rested upon his shoulders and breathed exquisite fire and life into him.

Yet, he was always busy doing something in his solitary detachment; if not training then scanning for clues of the Resistance's next strategy; analyzing records of the Senate's most recent hearing; sifting through ancient Imperial archives; or looking for the dregs of the Jedi. Looking for _her_.

"What were you going to do— in the future?" he asked.

She looked to him, eyebrows raised.

"I'm not sure." Her voice was concise and final, the click of a door being shut. "You?"

He avoided her question for a moment, focusing his gaze on the sky. She had been waiting for someone, even she wasn't sure who; she had been left so young. He could see the faces; intelligent and solemn, though kind. But they were blurry; faces through a veil of smoke. Her talents were clear, though: the ability to fly ships on theory, the carnal knowledge the made anything possible; the respect pooling in the eyes scattered around Niima that watched her.

That respect had pooled in him. She had humbled him. Forcing him out of her mind and charging into his like a tidal wave. Escaping like a draft of air from the labyrinth of impenetrable security on Starkiller Base. And capturing the admiration of the crippled heart of his father in less than a day.

There was nothing she wouldn't be able to do.

But him. He lay pinned under his finally fallen stack of plutonium bricks.

"I have no idea," he finally said. And he didn't. His current future didn't expand any father than the horizon in any direction.

Rey turned her head back; the slightest smile turning up the corner of her mouth, as faint as the first light of the sun, even before it rose. "I never thanked you," she said softly. "So, thank you."

"It was nothing." He said, tasting the absinth-potent realization that he never considered killing her as a possibility. Snoke had told him to it and he only thought of what he would have to do to save her.

"Wasn't it?" She asked firmly. Her eyes were full of wide open plains shining cumulous towers of light back at him. "What did you give up for it?"

He actually laughed, imagining the universe he had cultivated for himself— the oceans of fury and patience he tapped to accomplish it. "You have no idea." She looked placidly at him, and he realized she had suddenly withdrawn. She was so open a moment before she might have let him reach out and touch her. Now, she had turned to stone. Because he reminded her who he was and what he wanted.

But, more than anything, he just wanted her and peace; a world where someone sat down, discussed the problems, agreed what's in the best interest of all people, and then did it.

A long silence drifted between them, thick and stale and aching in his joints. He needed to end it. He needed her.

"I told you I would teach you telekinesis."

She looked back to him, her eyes quick and carrying unbridled eagerness.

"Now?"

"If you want."

"Alright."

Her eyes gleamed.

 

* * *

 

 

They spent the next couple of hours practicing. First levitating grains of sand then the bright blue fruit. They danced at Rey's command with a willingness that should not have been possible.

He watched her without breathing, dying to touch her and feel the power that coursed through her body. But he didn't. Instead, he allowed himself to relax into the lightness and buoyant ease of the activity. Their conversation was as mild as the purling of sunbathing birds, and the acid that usually burned in his stomach was completely absent.

___

When the sky reached the highest point in the sky, they both sensed a presence behind them. Simultaneously, a foreign aura of cool conviction gathered in Kylo's chest; the same sensation he had felt when meeting the Aing-Tii yesterday.

The monk was approaching them from the thicket behind them, unmistakable due to the hexagonal printings surrounding his or her eyes. But this time it was surrounded by another five Aing-Tii.

He and Rey stood to meet them as they drew near. Their expressionless eyes focused on her, yet he could feel calm their antipathy emanating towards him. The monk that had received them yesterday was carrying a white bundle of fabric. They stopped in front of Rey, who watched them with a face bright with fascination. After a moment of silence the Monk offered the bundle to her. She accepted it with courteous, open hands.

Automatically, her eyes glazed and her posture loosened like she might slide to the ground. Feeling the Aing-Tii's eyes shift to him Kylo started for her, reaching out his hand to— what? steady her? reassure her? But before his finger tips touched Rey, her stance tightened and straightened again, determination closing over her clear, focused eyes.

She inhaled deeply, then raised her eyes back to the monk who offered her the bundle. She lowered her head into a slight, composed bow.

Each of the monks returned the gesture, and then, as abruptly as they arrived, they turned and walked back up the beach into the thicket beyond the small dunes.

When they disappeared, taking their communicative pheromones with them, Kylo turned back to Rey. She had unraveled the bundle but there was nothing in it. It was just a large, woven textile— a blanket.

She was watching him. Loose stands of her hair tracing around her thoughtful eyes, vivid and dense as the brylark groves he grew up in. They roamed over him for a minute, as if thirsty and soaking up a drink, then they finally settled on his face. She looked at him with a sudden, stark openness reflected in her the angles of her body. Something had changed, or had been changing. Somehow, now, he could see in her that she trusted some part of him.

In that moment he realized her wanted nothing more right then than her respect. She embodied all of the peace, power and acceptance he had been searching for his entire life.

 

* * *

 

 

_When Rey had accepted the bundle from the monk, she was automatically transposed somewhere else. Instead of the beach, she was stood on a solid clay floor surrounded by towering, irregular stone pillars supporting an enormously high ceiling. Gently flapping white fabric hung in streaming banners, reaching dozens of yards to trail on the sunlit floor. Turning, her eyes landed on a single Aing-Tii, stooped gracefully with apparent age and watching her with cobalt-blue eyes. A rich multitude of rainbow-colored etchings scrawled across its gleaming ivory plates._

Hello. _A tranquil voice entered her mind. It was not human at all, and she didn't hear the words in Basic. It simply expressed meaning without phonemes, placing the thoughts into her mind like heat or cold on her skin. She knew it was from the Aing-Tii._

I apologize that I can not communicate with you in person. But you are welcome here. We have seen your future, we know what you are and what you will become, and it is our honor to have you. Please know that whatever I or my people can do for you, we will.

_Rey opened her mouth to respond but before she could, the Aing-Tii slowly dipped into a graceful bow before her. Rey followed suit, closing her eyes as her brow lowered._

_When she opened them again, she was standing in an empty expanse of sand-covered desert with Kylo beside her. He was wrapped from the throat down in dozens of tones of gray cloth, and his eyes were the color of the earth._

_But it only lasted for a moment because when she blinked, her eyes opened to grand domed room of glass. She stood on a polished stone floor with a circular crest of tiled ferns ringed by twelve scarlet chairs. Outside the windows streamed lines of vehicles stretching into the pale atmosphere over an infinite landscape of city. Morning light flowed into the space, bathing the air around her in clean light._

_Then, she was once more standing on the beach in front of the monk whose name she still hadn't learned. Kylo beside her._


	13. Oasis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reylo in paradise; free to lounge on the beach and chit-chat. And other things.

Eight calm days passed since their arrival on the Aing-Tii homeworld. Rey and Kylo wandered the shores and forests like fish sheltered in a reef. Their paths crossed with increasing frequency, and their deepening conversations with each encounter, like rain and ash, allowed the roots of their relationship to grow. Over time, tiny buds of connection blossomed into flowers, nourished by the rich soils of their halcyon setting.

For now, the obscure, hidden planet was a refuge that ushered peace and repose. The clairvoyance of the Jedi Masters, which stretched across the galaxy, provided Rey with the assurance that, while Snoke was of course looking for Kylo and her, he was very far from finding them. Anakin had told her, in his marble voice, that when Snoke found them it was his intent to kill Kylo. Kylo's betrayal had been too great, and Snoke was a being that had suffered too much from betrayal previously to allow it again. She kept this from Kylo, holding her secrets close. Still he had already decided the odds for himself and assumed they were safe. So instead of concern, a sense of security softened their interactions.

The Force, the landscape, and the Republic's history occupied much of their gentle, tentative conversation But occasionally they would also mention speculatively at the hazy, uncertain future. For Kylo, it was like the clouds, morphing and shifting across the sky. For Rey, it was as unknown as the ocean.

 

* * *

 

Kylo sat in the dimness of his ship, having left Rey to swim and bathe. Vader's—Anakin Skywalker's—lightsaber rested in his hands, capturing the barely present light of the cabin in its shining chrome surface. His chest felt too full, like his heart had swollen out of shape and was pressing hard against his lungs.

In the past eleven days, razor edged memories of his last six years had followed him like a shadow— only fading when he was with Rey. They sliced at him, leaving shallow, burning lacerations until his whole being was covered in sharp slivers of chagrin. But Rey's company had been a distraction as powerful as a kolto.

He had seen her as part of his future ever since Snoke had told him to train her. But now, she was shifting towards its center.

"She is incredible, grandfather," he said openly into the darkness of the space. "She has no idea what she is capable of. She could do anything.

"If we worked together— perhaps she could balance me. Her morality and her compassion could fill in my errors and my faults."

Pausing, an image of Snoke's proposed future came to him, as barren as a moon without an atmosphere. Peace would ricochet off of it like the crumbled shards of an impacting meteor, but only after leaving another empty wound on its surface.

"With her help, maybe we could overthrow Snoke. Then, we could work to create order that would be truly stable. She is so good she could make this happen."

In his conversations with her, he had delved deeper and deeper into her life on Jakku. She had responded to all of his questions about her life there with open sincerity, speaking about even the scavengers who attacked and stole from her with patient empathy. As she spoke she had watched him with a dark curiosity in her eyes that formed an evident barrier between them. But, with each passing day that barrier had faded to become a little more transparent. Still, she never asked him about his self; his history, and he was grateful for that. How could she tolerate him if she knew?

"I've never been treated by anyone in the way she treats me. It doesn't make any sense, after everything I have done. She shouldn't even allow me talk to her— but she is so honest and— gentle. Especially for how strong she is. It's like her respect for the world can't be broken."

A hundred emotions flowed together through him, dragging through his veins and coalescing into a smoldering composite that perched on his sternum and spread through his chest like a bird extending its wings.

"It's funny to think—

He stopped, then drew in a breath through his clenched teeth, forcing it down a swollen throat.

"I recognize now that, however much I tried to suppress it, I always wanted to love someone."

 

* * *

 

"He really thinks this? Believes this?" Rey asked, her voice as thin as sunlight through cloud cover.

"Yes." Anakin responded, firm but temperate. A gleam shone in his eyes. He was standing beside the Jedi Masters Yoda, Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan in the sparse shade of the low-hanging forest.

"Yet, we know how impulsive he is. Kylo may say he wishes to overthrow Snoke. But is he to be trusted? What if he speaks to Rey of this soon?" Obi-Wan asked in his gentle, dancing accent, thoughtful concern pulling at his brow.

After a brief moment of laden silence, Yoda answered, "Listen, you should, Rey. Engage, do not. Not yet."

She nodded, feeling the churn of wonder and determination in her stomach.

"How do you feel, Rey? About all of this?" Qui-Gon asked softly.

Rey considered the question for a moment.

"Honestly, I'm still surprised. And I still wonder about all of this being a sham, but he seems honest, and has only been courteous and respectful since we've arrived."

"He is honest." Anakin responded directly. "I've never heard him lie."

A sort of bleary warmth slipped into her. _Perhaps she could trust him._

"Will you ever speak to him?" she asked Anakin quietly.

He turned his eyes thoughtfully to Yoda, Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon, then back to her.

"Maybe. If he can prove that he can live by his current intentions."

"How would he prove that?" Rey breathed, knowing there was no answer to this conundrum.

"Trust him, we must." Yoda said softly, "One day, perhaps. Soon, perhaps."

Kylo had saved her life and he had been nothing but good to her since she had met him. He had committed atrocities, yes. But for a purpose that he believed was in the best interest of others. He had been taken as a very pliable youth then forged and sharpened by a an incredibly intelligent and powerful machinist. So, if he had been very effectively manipulated, could he truly break free of his mold and unchain himself from his Master?

The Jedi Masters had told her why it was necessary for Kylo to abandon Snoke the first night she had met them. They had the ability to communicate with life and influence the midi-chlorians to create life in the absence of balance, but they could not take life. Only a living being could do that. There would be no containing Snoke; not with his war machine. But they could not ask Luke to face Snoke, Kylo and the Knights of Ren alone, even if Rey were to work with him. Snoke and Kylo had to be separated; only then could Snoke be reached and toppled.

And, now, Kylo had surfaced that consideration on his own. So Anakin had said.

Her palms felt hot, like she had pressed them to the walls of a ship that had just landed after entering an atmosphere.

Kylo wants to work with her— to be with her. First Finn, then Han, then him.

For a life full of loneliness, company was flooding in. And she couldn't help wanting all of it. Somehow, even the burning darkness of Kylo was preferable to the cold light of isolation.

But could he really turn? Could he really do this?

 

* * *

 

 

Six more days passed, languid and mild. She and Kylo had spent more and more time together until they were rarely apart.

Delicate strokes of humor, something she hadn't even expected him to be capable of, had slipped into their conversations.

His face would always be set, neither hard nor soft, but open; a doorway she could see little though, but one that invited her in. Their discussions of the Force had shifted from literal evaluation of known fact or experience he could share with her to speculation on its theoretical properties. She drank the discourse in greedily, loving the idea of something that interconnected all of them— binding her to the parents she couldn't remember, and to everyone else she had lost after such a short time.

One night he stayed with her on the shore just beyond the tide line after practicing telekinesis. The sun had just dipped below the horizon, after which a blanket of black velvet slid up from the south, covering everything.

Sitting beside her in silence as she laid on her blanket from the Aing-Tii, they watched the slow turn of the faint constellations in the indigo sky.

He had been so gentle, like a tree whose branches swayed in the wind, his voice full and steady like thousands of rustling leaves.

"You should probably just start writing manuals for the Aing-Tii on how to improve their telekinesis." Kylo abruptly said, his voice blunt and serious. Rey snorted, but still smiled genuinely. She had managed to move his ship several yards earlier. Kylo told her it was something that had taken him years to be capable of.

"Or, I would just write one for you." she quipped back.

"Don't get arrogant."

"You know I'm not even capable of being arrogant. Just considerate."

She could sense him smiling.

They slipped back into a restful silence, letting the meek sound of the small tides fill the space between them. This space had become incrementally smaller since they arrived two standard weeks ago. Now, he was so close Rey could reach out and touch him if she wanted to.

"Would you ever consider taking a position of power in the future?" he asked suddenly, his voice sweeping through the darkness to her.

She looked at him. His face was barely perceptible in the night, and she couldn't see any sign of expression. The nebula offered the faintest captured light to the dark side of the planet. In this absence of light, she had grown used to relying on the Force to guide her through the darkness more effectively than her eyesight could. She felt for his Force signature, which had become so familiar it usually went unnoticed like an accent. But, pooling gently around him, it shared nothing unusual about his emotional state.

"What do you mean?" she asked quietly.

"Like governance."

"In a democracy?"

"Sure. If there was to be another form of effective democracy that the galaxy adopted. Would you want to be part of it?"

She smiled wanly, "I've never considered something like that for myself. Besides, I've never been part of a group where I had anything to say in terms of governance." She felt her throat contract at this last statement in considering her relationship with the Jedi masters; what they had done to her, what they asked her to do. She had decided, after everything, that there was enough purpose to listen and speak with them, even do the things they asked, whether it was her independent will or not.

Would she ever tell Kylo about them?

She wanted to. She wanted to share it with someone who was human and alive. Who might understand how she felt in a immediate, visceral way. Who could touch her and who she could touch.

She had thought a lot about that lately.

He was a predator; a wraith in the jungle. But he had been so gentle, and looked at her sometimes with bright, shining eyes. Why? In hopes of compassion? Of forgiveness?

Could she give that to him? Sometimes she saw a child in those eyes. Sometimes she saw the monster she remembered from before. Sometimes she just saw a man who was becoming burnished under the sun.

 

He saved her from Snoke. He _saved her_. And he was here with her, even though he didn't need to be. She could protect herself against most things, but not the unknown. But he knew those things, and he was trying to protect her still.

There was nothing about him that indicated possessiveness or overbearing. He was just there; a quiet, contained body of power and intelligence.

And she was grateful, enough to make her bones at times feel weak and warm like heated butter. He had never asked for anything from her except her company, and he gave his freely. It was all she could have wanted. But he also gave her admiration, respect and protection. Sometimes this realization could be overwhelming, like being caught in a rainstorm. She didn't need any of this from him. But while he offered it she would accept, with a reservoir of 15 years of mostly untapped gratitude.

They had talked about leaving the planet. But they had both agreed that, for now, neither of them had any reason to. They were safe here. Personally, she enjoyed the comfortable, meditative rest and, honestly, his company. Meanwhile, there was plenty of the most delicious fruit and fish she could possibly imagine.

In his company, she could not refute that he seemed to care for her. Perhaps more deeply than she could be sure of. It had been developing in his posture and his tone of voice like the bronze tan that was darkening on his skin. She watched it grow every day. She also saw how his eyes slid along the lines of her arms and cheek bones. And it resonated in her in some primal way she could not compare to any other feeling she had ever experienced. Sometimes there would be a taste in her mouth as thick and sweet as honey that would flow warmly down her throat.

But now, he was asking her about government. About power. She and the Jedi had been waiting for this.

"Why are you asking me this?" she said smoothly, lifting the last words intentionally to infuse them with curiosity.

A long paused proceeded his next statement, and there was a crescendo of intensity to his Force signature, which she was now feeling for carefully.

"What Snoke is doing— it's not working. There needs to be another way."

"Do you know another way?"

"I can think of a few. But it needs to be brought by the right people. Snoke has become corrupt. I don't even know what he wants anymore."

"What did he want?" Rey asked, her voice soft, drawing him out like breathing softly onto a fire.

"He wanted to enforce the return of stability. End the polluted chaos left over by the destruction of the Empire and the Republic. The New Republic was incapable of this— it only pretended to be effective, like giving mint tea to to cure the nausea of a person dying from cancer."

Rey nodded silently. It was amazing how Kylo had created this perspective, but she had to consider that it was not entirely untrue. The New Republic had accomplished little that she could consider a victory. Its primary achievements entailed reinstating crooked career bureaucrats into office, supporting and assuaging the corporate sector, and readjusting the tax system, but to no benefit for any individual or system that was taxed. The New Republic had enacted numerous peace concordances and disarmament acts in the distorted misconception of creating prosperity, but those hadn't accomplished anything.

She chose her next words carefully, "Could anything be changed with Snoke in power?"

Kylo's response was determined. "No. The First Order's allegiance to him is indomitable. They would never turn away from him; it would be like murdering a loved grandfather."

"But you would— _now_?"

She could feel Kylo's eyes move to her, turning the question over in his mind. He answered sooner and with more conviction than she had expected.

"Yes, now I would."

She didn't respond. She couldn't push this any farther. It needed to be him.

Still, when she inhaled, her chest felt lighter, as if lifted by a breath of helium.

He was finished with Snoke.

She felt grounded and heavy, the humid, warm air embracing her and stirring her skin to occasional, pleasant shivers.

In the absence of words, she felt him settle and calm beside her. Even reclined on the ground he felt powerful, beautifully so.

She wanted to touch him. The thought, though far from being new, came as quickly as if carried on wind. She had spent so much of her life physically separated from all of the people around her, and her skin and muscles with tense with the throe to learn what it felt like to touch and be touched by someone.

Then, as if sensing her mind had wandered away, Kylo abruptly shifted. Rising from beside her, he quietly said, "good night," his voice like soft, wet sand, and turned to move back towards the ship. Surprised, she sat quickly up and toward him. She hadn't expect him to leave so soon.

"Wait— stay."

She felt him stop and turn his head over his shoulder to look to her through the darkness. Questioning silently.

She stood smoothly and reached out to him through the darkness. But sunlight was filling her belly.

Her hand touched his arm, just above the elbow. His light shirt that moved across his skin with the breeze shifted lightly under her touch, but his body was as still as the massive stone formations scattered along the beach. A bright stream of warmth flowed from her neck down her spine and along her limbs, encouraging her.

She had been feeling it for awhile, but as she touched Kylo now, it flared and pulsed in her fingers and her chest.

"Why?" She heard Kylo inquire quietly, his voice shaping the word low and earthy, like moss.

Rey didn't say anything— what would she say? Instead, she took another step toward him, dividing the space between them to centimeters, and slid her hand up and across his shoulder. He was so tall. Finally, she rested her hand on his chest and splayed her fingers against it, feeling him inhale under her palm.

He tensed for half a moment, then released. He stepped forward into her, pressing his body against hers and slipping both his hands up her neck and into her bound hair.

She let him, feeling a surge of contentment at the contact mingled with static elation settle into her, laying out in a bleary line along her collarbone.

After a moment, as if waiting for the certainty she wouldn't pull back, he lowered his face to hers. Closing her eyes, she felt his lips settle first on one eyelid then move to the other. She smiled a light, invisible smile in the darkness.

To respond, she lifted her hand and stroked from the angle of his jaw to the center of his throat with the edge of her thumb. His torso swelled with another deep inhalation, as if he was preparing to dive under water. She felt the bass of the air rushing in, like wind moving between a thick grove.

One of his hands was still locked into her hair but the other slid heavily down her ribs to the patch of muscle between her waist and hip, pulling her towards him; tightening the space between them.

She complied, holding the posture by curving in her lumbar vertebrae. His firm body was surprising in its warmth next to hers. Instinctually, she lifted her hands to the collar of his shirt and pulled down and in, letting herself meld to him like water condensation.

Then, finally, he moved his mouth to hers, closing the last gap. The smell of forest soaked into her; her mouth, her lungs. But he kissed her as if he were trying to taste her soul. He held her and drank the kiss like she were an oasis. Though, with burning lips stretched firm under his, she smiled in the irony.

This was the most belonging she had ever felt.

Coherency was lost in the absence of light, as if he were the only thing that existed with her in a vacuum of space. Her hands and fingers moved slowly over the planes of his back and stomach, along the curve of his shoulders and neck, feeling him, trying to know him entirely. He let her explore without interruption, keeping her hands near her hair, neck and face as if her mind resting under the skin and bone there was the only thing that concerned him.

After her hands had completed a circle of his body, she pulled them back to his, lacing her fingers over his, and gently lifting them away. He let her do this compliantly, then lifted his mouth from hers as well, but tentatively, like a thirsting animal pulled away from a stream.

"Thank you," she said quietly.

She could feel him nod, his breathing as even as the tide.

Then, she stepped back, one palm tracing away then finally falling from his abdomen as she pulled part from him and turned, to walk away up the beach.

She carried a feeling as soft and sweet as a pool of rainwater. But, she needed to be alone to consider what this meant and what should come to pass tomorrow when she would see him again.

She felt him wait behind her for several long moments, his signature shuddering with uncertainty under purling waves of light and indeterminate emotion. Then, finally, he turned and walked the opposite direction up the beach, but not in the direction of his ship.


	14. Kindling

Rey wandered along the coast in the darkness, Kylo filling her mind as if he were walking next to her.

The only light in the night was absorbed by the ocean; sprawled out across its shoulders in a million white embers that pulsed meekly to each other.

As she stepped her feet sank into the wet surface of the tideline, the sand yielding beneath her. Occasionally, a wave would rush up and slide past her ankles, warm and comforting, like the ocean was brushing at her affectionately.

The hazy warmth of Kylo's body still clung in her hair and on her clothes. She could feel a lingering pressure in the places where he had touched her; the press over her mouth and on her pelvis.

It felt good, despite everything. Despite whatever she had witnessed in the labyrinthine history of his mind and his background, he had saved her life, and he was here with her still. Someone to walk with on the coast and through the forest beyond it. To show her things she'd never imagined she wad capable of.

He had been nothing but generous, deferential, and tender since Mannassar. There were the things she had witnessed him do, before; to Han, capturing her like an animal, and whatever he had done to Finn, although she had since been reassured by Obi-Wan that Finn was now healthy and an active part of the Resistance. These things had weighed on her like burning, cragged rocks. Almost as if tied to a fishing-line hooked into to her chest, she had pulled them along behind her. But the sand and water of this place had begun to abrade them, and now they felt like small, smooth and rounded stones she almost didn't notice.

When she looked at Kylo now, she saw freedom. And with reckless abandon she could drift on him like a river to the open ocean of the universe.

It is hard to inexorably condemn a river that had coursed its way through toxic ground, even if it carried the toxin with it.

All polluted things will be purified with enough time.

And, already, his current seemed clearer.

But now there was the decision of whether she should should she fully slip into it. To let herself connect to someone alive and present. Though, it appeared her subconscious had already made the decision, it was just a matter of accepting it.

And he had made decisions too.

It felt right— this thing they had. There would be someone to touch, to look for, to unburden her mind on. To fill the void in her chest that had echoed with battering, reverberating loneliness for as long as she could remember.

So, she would let herself do this for now. While the water was clear. She could handle separation later, if necessary. She always had.

 

 

* * *

 

In the morning, after walking back to their familiar stretch of staked shore, he was there waiting for her. He watched her approach with a carefully arranged expression, like a perfect pattern of eggshell tiles, placed into a grout of volcanic ash. Regarding his face, she was reminded of the full spectrum of human emotion that sifted inside him. The molten core of a planet. He was still dressed in ebony, though his clothing had been stripped away to a single light layer of fabric that covered his torso and limbs.

In his eyes, though, there were smears of the blue morning sky reflecting past his irises.

"Good morning," he said softly. 

"Good morning," she responded, noticing the gentle vibration in her throat as the words were produced. Stepping next to him, he rose to meet her advance, his movement limber but controlled, waiting for her to choose the next action.

She stretched out a palm and laid in across his sternum. A smile formed on his mouth, fluid and streaming into the rest of his features, burnishing them with an aura of focus and ease. He lifted his hand to trace along her arm, over her shoulder and to the back of her neck. His skin feeling contradictorily rough for the smooth movement. Stepping in he pressed his lips to her forehead.

* * *

Conversation had dappled the last hour in light strokes. Kylo watched Rey lay curled comfortably in the sand beside him, her clothes drying on her skin and one of his data pads detailing the account of the Battle of Malachor in her hands. It was remarkable how much she knew of the world for how little of it she had personally experienced. In his conversations with her, he found her knowledge of history before the fall of the Empire rivaled his own. Anything she didn't know she learned as quickly as she could with a ravenous appetite.

But political science was something that he had not spoken to her about. He was too involved in it through the First Order, and he had carefully sidestepped any situations where political agendas could be a topic of discussion. She didn't need to be reminded who he was before he met her. She had already seen inside of him.

But eventually, things had to be said. He felt like a fish in a bowl, whose water was filling quickly with ammonia. He needed to find some outlet; some way to clear his lungs of the poison of his actions.

"How do you envision stability returning to the galaxy?" he asked the question abruptly, looking over his shoulder at her, holding emotion deep under the surface.

She laid the history text down and propped herself up with an arm to consider him. The question was impulsive, but he knew it was something that she had been considering. Sometimes the things she said about her life on Jakku or the possible futures she had once envisioned for herself danced around galactic order, but flitted away anytime they got too close.

Now, however, her response, through slow, was steady and deliberate. "By allowing the people to find it on their own. A wellspring."

Her eyes met his, firm and bright. There was no challenge in them, just conviction. And naiveté? Maybe. It was hard to know anything for sure anymore when the ideals he once believed in so fully resulted in the massacre of an entire solar system.

What was he doing here? He belonged in the center of a supermassive black hole.

He remembered the feeling that rose in his chest as he waited for Starkiller's dark matter to reach Hosnian Prime. It was like his lungs were being shredded by wires of guilt and shame for how unnecessary all of it was. It was a memory that still clung to him like a tattoo.

But for her to think, after all of this, worlds and stars could be realigned? Voices heard?

Where does she find the optimism? Surely she didn't find it in the bowels of decaying star destroyers or those thousands of scratch-marks in her hovel on Jakku.

"Do you really think that is possible?" he asked.

"Yes," she responded, as sure as before. "There would need to be leaders who organize the discussion and coordinate the decisions. But their interest cannot be just power. It would have to be selfless."

 _Selfless_. Who, that wanted to play a role in government, could be selfless? He could think of no one, from his childhood, watching the New Republic walk along on stilts, pretending to be so much more than it was. His mother was included. She had loved her power, despite the excuses she gave.

"And you believe people are capable of that?"

"Yes. It has been done before."

He waited for her to add more, knowing what inbred, disillusioned martyrs she would probably reference, but she didn't. So he let himself roll back to focus on her words, and her way of saying them. A firmly as ever, a stroke of emerald paint across a canvas.

She had looked so certain saying this, like recounting a fact about the function of a a cell, something true and undeniable.

Like his need for her and the shelter she provided. Another universe.

He reached for her and she took his hand.

* * *

Afterwards, they walked together towards the forest, to escape from the midday sun.

His heart cantered slowly in his chest, like large, glossy seabirds sauntering on the shore. Yet, each breath felt light and free, as if his lungs had grown the bird's long, feathered wings. He could sense hers flowing softly in and out beside him with a similar ease.

He glanced at Rey, slender and gleaming in the sunlight. She had fallen into a deep consideration of something, her mouth drawn into a tight, pensive line. Not for the first time, he felt a thirst to reach out and look into her thoughts— wanting to know what ideas could engage her like this. But this desire was coupled with an automatic resistance. He wouldn't, ever again. It would be like pouring tar into drinking supply. Her mind was her own, wild and pristine.

She deserved a position of power. To be a leader who would organize the discussion and coordinate the decisions of the *wellspring* that recreated order. Her interest would not be power. It would be selfless. Of everything he had ever seen her do or say, it was all selfless. She was patience, reason and compassion incarnate.

It was a ridiculous thought, but she would be a perfect Jedi, everything his old, brittle uncle had insisted he be.

He looked back as her and spoke, feeling his voice move through his throat as soft as wool. "Maybe you're right— about people rebuilding on their own. And there would have to be a fresh start. The New Republic is gone. The First Order is not capable of democracy. It needs to be broken up and dissolved. It was never what it should have been anyway— it was a mindless machine that coerced rather than promoted. Something must fragment and sweep it away."

"What would this something be?" Her eyes grazed curiously along his face as she responded.

"A number of powerful individuals who understand it. How it was built, and its foundation."

"How could this happen?"

"Snoke would have to be removed first. He is the fountain-head; every decision and action the Order pursues comes from him. But it isn't really order anymore, if it ever truly was." The words moved out of his mouth freely, like water flowing over a fall. The words themselves did not surprise him, but the ease with which he spoke did. He would have expected them to clog his throat obstinately. But there was no taste to this lack of friction, it just was.

To harbor these caustic thoughts of his master, the Supreme Leader, was one thing, but to actually say them? Snoke was the one that had pulled him from the abandoned cave a thousand meters underground, and placed him in the sun. The sun had burned so hot it was obsidian, but that was alright. Snoke had promised him legitimate power and purpose, and every promise was delivered.

Until he ripped himself away.

Perhaps because of her, perhaps because of some acid within himself that finally burned through. None of it was clear, especially the numbing relief that had afterwards enveloped him in hesitant waves.

"Then? After Snoke is taken down?"

Rey's lilting, temperate voice bathed him in the oxymoronic simplicity of the moment. He was walking beside a young, unbelievably powerful woman more resemblant of a desert rainstorm more than a human, discussing the expulsion of his master from power,—the most powerful being in a thousand worlds—as if they were discussing a harvest to be performed at the end of a season. The word _traitor_ trailed through his mind, searing, but bearable.

Not that it much mattered. Snoke was too powerful.

"It's not as simple as that. Snoke isn't just going to be eradicated."

"There's no one— no group that could do this?" She was so calm, her voice mild, barely glowing in inquisitiveness beneath her smooth demeanor.

"Not that I'm aware of." Snoke would inhale any threat like vapor, absorbing it effortlessly into his infinite mass of ability, then then swallow the performer.

Rey held his gaze, as composed as the ocean behind her. She should know this, he thought. But she was merely uninformed.

"He is a Sith lord whose knowledge of the Force is so great he learned how to create life almost a century ago. I have no idea what he is capable of now. He can revive any living being; I've seen it many times. It is the main reason he holds such influence over the First Order. And he is capable of reviving himself. He is immortal."

 

* * *

 

 

As the sun was setting, Rey went to the forest to gather wood for a fire. The conversation she had had with Kylo earlier about government and Snoke had ended as abruptly as it had begun after the word _immortal_ , but the discussion had orbited in her mind since with a steady gravitational pull.

As she stepped through the trees, picking up dry, fragrant branches and piling them into her arms, the light began to transition into a lambent bronze. Moving deeper into the trees the sound of the ocean faded away until there was only the clipped whir of winged insects.

"Hello, Rey."

Qui-Gon's voice reached out to her, and she turned to see him standing with Anakin in front of a large boulder; shielded from Kylo if he were follow her.

Immediately, the thought of their kiss the night before and what had happened this morning streaked through her. A moth beat its wings against her stomach and the muscles along her spine tightened as she waited for the Jedi to say something about it.

Blunt shadows in the Jedi's eyes betrayed concern, cool and stale, but when Qui-Gon spoke, his voice was the same tranquil baritone it always was.

"You have had some significant conversations with Kylo today about Snoke and government."

"I'm really just letting things happen on their own." Her voice felt abnormally light, relieved at the respect to privacy.

"Everything you said to Kylo we agree with fully. Eventually, the galaxy will come together again. It will take time, but the people are ready. The conditions of the last 50 years will mold the efforts of the systems to create lasting balance." Qui-Gon said.

Turning his sharp gaze from Qui-Gon to her, Anakin added in his sleek accent. "And Kylo has almost fully detached himself from the First Order or Snoke. Already, he is open to the idea of the galactic political system you described. He is enamored with you— he trusts you and sees you as a source of unbiased reason to help determine the future. You have him, Rey."

A contradicting wave of warmth rushed through her, causing her to shudder and bring her arms across her chest. The idea of having so much influence over someone else felt off-balance, though knowing it was Kylo was somehow both disarming and pleasing.

"What about Snoke?" she asked quickly, to distract herself. "You told me you wanted me to work with Kylo to remove Snoke. Can this happen?" Her question felt fragile; a young sapling still lean and pliable. The word _immortal_ continued to rest in her bone marrow.

"We believe so... in fact, the Force has offered glimpses of his death. Yet, we do not know how. And, we don't know the full extent of Snoke's capabilities. It may take some time to determine the best course of action." Qui-Gon's voice was steady despite this lack of knowledge. He considered her for a moment, his gaze impenetrable, then finally asked, "Do you still feel safe, here, with Kylo?"

"I think so— But as you said, I wonder about his stability. I trust him for now, but I don't know if he will continue to act how I expect him to."

"We've decided it is time that I spoke to him." Anakin said. "But this is something I should do alone. In the morning, will you ask him to come here on his own?"

* * *

Her conversation with the Jedi lingered on her mind as she walked back, floating though her in short, downy verses.

Anakin had said he would talk to Kylo in the morning. He indicated he would expose the years of observance and forbearance he and the other Jedi Masters had practiced, and explain to Kylo why they had done so. Then he would tell Kylo how they had been in contact with her, but just very recently— during the last few pages of their 6 years of waiting and hope that Kylo would abandon the darkness he had entered. Anakin would be honest, and perhaps Kylo would accept the honesty with understanding and peace. If he didn't, Anakin told her they would alert to Aing-Tii to guard her immediately.

But somehow she felt this stone-solid certainty that the Aing-Tii would not be needed.

She expected Kylo to feel some semblance of relief; even if he also felt anger, but the relief would outweigh it.

She found him sitting against one of the massive stone pillars thrusting out of the ground near the shore. The last rays of sun light streamed into his inky hair, tracing lines of copper through it that fell and glanced off of his brow, contrasting with the sharp angles of his cheeks. He was reading a data pad, drawing lines of notes with long, deft fingers in the interface beside the text.

Looking up at her he smiled as she stepped into view. The copper light slipped down and washed over his whole face, illuminating his expression.

It was still strange to see these smiles, like he was learning them in the past few weeks the same way a child learns to walk. It was also strange to compare him now to what she had seen in his mind on Starkiller Base, though that felt like it happened years ago.

"Thank you," he said gently as she laid her arm-load of sticks and kindling next to the rock and began placing it for a fire.

"Of course." She replied mildly, sweeping a light glance at him. His gaze pressed against her in a way that made her lungs exhale silk with each breath. Looking away, she knelt and regarded the wood. Focusing on the air surrounding the kindling, she imagined the molecules too small to see rubbing against each other until a spark flew sharp and bright and caught on the feathers of wood. She stroked the flicker with a thought and the flame spread obediently, crackling softly as it laid its roots.

She looked to Kylo, feeling a small blaze pride travel along her skin.

He smirked back at her, suddenly looking almost young and carefree, if not for the dark lines under his eyes. "You learn fast at everything, don't look so smug," he said crisply.

She pressed away a smile and laid down next him, letting the sand cradle her back and neck. The dye of the black layer of cloth that she wore, which Derisdem had given her weeks ago on Mannassar, had washed away to a faded, slate grey, bleached by the salt water and the sky. It carried the scents of the Aing-Tii homeworld now; ocean and rust and something floral like the powdery flowers of the fruit she picked each morning. A week ago she had begun to place a sweet, azure sphere of it into Kylo's hand every time she returned with a bundle, and last night she noticed that he had begun to bear the fragrance on his skin as well, though it still mingled with the incense of charred forest that lingered on his body.

A rustle of sand sounded from behind them and a sudden placed sense of amity swelled within her.

Turning her head, and feeling Kylo do the same, she saw a group of four Aing-Tii approaching them.

She recognized her monk from among them automatically. The geometric patterns lining the monk's ivory body plates had become familiar; they swirled across the monk's frame in ways the sharp lines and vertices of polygons shouldn't, reminding her of the soft lines of driftwood.

She rose calmly to meet them, Kylo beside her. But there was a brisk apprehension wavering around him in short vibrations. She reached out to brush her fingers against his reassuringly, but he kept his eyes firmly on the Aing-Tii as they drew to a couple meters away.

Stopping in front of her the monk kneeled, reaching to the ground and collected a handful of sand in three elegant fingers. Cupping the sand in a tiled, porcelain palm, the monk rose again and regarded her, eyes still and full of something reassuring. Stepping forward to close the space between her and the other Aing-Tii the monk extended the arm holding the sand and waited with it poised. Rey reached her own hand forward and the monk spilled the sand into her waiting palm.

In the same gripping lurch as when she accepted the blanket from the monk, she was forced into somewhere else.

_She is standing alone on the beach, a hundred meters from the jutting rock where she just stood in front of the monk and next to Kylo. But now the rock is 10 times the size, as are all the others, littering the coast like curled and sleeping giants. Day and night pass like a strobe light, settling in a medium of soft, steady glow— a mixture of morning and dusk. Somehow she knows the world is moving around her a thousand years in a moment._

_Scanning the slow flurry of her surroundings, her eyes are drawn to the tideline. The ocean is a glassy surface sliding steadily up the shore towards her, like a blanket. Eventually, the water rises over her head but she doesn't need to breathe. She is weightless and safe, watching the world beneath the surface, hushed and calm._

_Soon, the water recedes again, sliding back down the shore. When its tide line is ten meters from her fingers of grass and brush start to rise out of the earth around her legs. A slowly growing crowd of evergreen trunks, tall and straight with slender, fine branches, march down onto the coast from where the Aing-Tii have always come. They flow past her towards the retreating sea until she is completely surrounded in the shade of these pillars of life reaching towards every horizon._

_Then, a mist of sand comes. Dusting back in from the shore, sweeping a dissolving golden fog through the forest until every trunk has fallen and faded away, revealing the ocean once more a hundred meters behind. The tide has reversed and the line of water rises again towards her. But a steady wave of sand slides before it, slipping evenly up and over any diminishing remnants of life—grass and shrub—washing everything away until it is all that is left._

From nowhere and without warning, the Aing-Tii appeared in front of her again, and Kylo at her side. His palm was resting between her shoulder blades, light as a leaf. It was comforting. She leaned slightly back into it, and felt his Force signature surge.

The monk regarded her passively for a moment, and a swell of something she couldn't identify, but reassuring, even empowering, lodged itself in her chest. Then the monk lithely stepped backwards to stand next to the others again. After only a moment, they bowed together to her in a synchronous movement and, without further action, silently turned to leave.

She and Kylo watched them stilly until they disappeared back into the treeline. Then he turned to her, his face hard and his eyes searching, the eyes of a starving animal. "What happened?"

Suddenly, the sense of fortitude the Aing-Tii had instilled in her was overwhelmed by a burning and urgent curiosity. "I saw something… here. But it was about time; the coast's history over a huge span of time. I saw forests rising where we stand and continuing so far past the shoreline I couldn't see through to the end, then the ocean came back and wiped them away. But it was the sand— the sand always came first, and when it did, it covered and dissolved everything. It was the sand that made the trees disappear."

"Psychometry." Kylo said, barely audibly. Then his eyes blazed, flaring coals, and he spoke louder. "It's a skill a few Force-sensitives are capable of. This happened before, didn't it? Where objects tell you their stories— but why the sand? Do you have any idea?"

Considering the question was like looking out over the fields of Jakku; there was sand and sky, but nothing else.


	15. Gale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grandfather and Grandson have a chat. Rey shows off what a BAMF she is.

It had been falconry.

He had lived in a black castle, a thousand meters in the sky. Away from everything, remote and protected. He could sweep down to the planet's surface; diving with the speed and agility that nothing could stop him from taking whatever he wanted. His eyes saw everything; and he was the perfect, prized hunter of his master. He had been perfectly content, delighting in his work, and well-cared for; sleek and strong and healthy.

Then the little thing he had carried back one day had chewed away at the latch of his hood.

And, now, she slept next to him, where they had flown back to the surface. Free and self-determining.

Rey was as much the clear, open sky she had ever been. But now she was also the warm, sheltering earth.

Her chest expanded and released in time with the tide as she lay curled into the sand, her head resting on the crook of her folded elbow. Tiny amber grains of sand glinted across her face, catching the swelling morning sunlight.

This light streamed into him, illuminating the crevasses that she had swept through and emptied. They had been full of tar, comfortingly warm and thick with anger, hatred and purpose. Now, the pits had been stripped to cool, empty hallows of uncertainty where a breeze slid along the steep, jagged walls.

Her presence had helped with the uncertainty. But the emptiness did not make him feel any lighter.

Sometimes he missed the heavy lure and blanket of darkness. But it was never truly for him. It always felt too foreign, like a language his vocal chords weren’t truly capable of producing.

But, where would a tamed falcon go?

Last night they had discussed this possibility. He had assured her that they had time. Snoke had spent over 10 years looking for Luke and Rey, and he never found them. But Kylo’s connection to Snoke was strong, even still. Snoke would find him eventually. Though, it would take time.

They had also discussed Rey's psychometric vision; extrapolating on why the Aing-Tii would have placed the sand in her hand. They hadn't arrived at any conclusions.

Then, Rey had said one last thing to him, after they had closed their eyes to sleep, less than a meter apart, wrapped in fabric, breeze and sand.

_“Would you go into the forest in the morning? There is something there for you to see.”_

The question pressed at him for hours afterward, heavy on his chest and constricting his breathing as he passed the night laying next to her. The word  _something_  pushed back at sleep until it had finally become it; absorbed fully into repeating dreams about empty, endless mazes of tree trunks where  _something_  was waiting to be found.

Now, it was morning; the sun had finally, fully breached the horizon. It was time for him to find whatever was there.

Rising, he quietly brushed the sand off of his body and strode in the direction of the forest. Each stride carried smoldering anticipation.

The sparse shade of the massive, needled trees barely grew thicker the further he walked, even when the shore was no longer visible. Still, it was quiet here, beyond the sound of the ocean, and the cool morning air lulled the fauna's burr to a whisper. The muffled rhythm of his footsteps and breathing were the loudest thing in his ears.

Rey had told him to just walk straight in, in any direction. It didn't matter. So his pace was deliberate. But curiosity pulled at him, like a child tugging at his clothes, and the irritation that clung to impatience bristled at his back.

"Ben."

Whirling, he scanned the hollows between trees but saw only wood and soil.

He had only been called that name once in the last half decade. Snoke had forbade the use of his given name, and the few commanders in the First Order that had learned it buried it in their memories or slid it into invisible steams of gossip. It was a name that was meant to be abolished; a burned blank check. Still, as he had walked through the echoing corridors of the Finalizer, the knowledge of his extravagant past brimmed in the unmasked eyes of the people who watched him pass by.  _Ben Solo was once Republic royalty. Ben Solo was once a Jedi. Ben Solo had abandoned that and became Lord Ren._

Yet, only one person had used the name  _Ben_  to address him.

But, the voice that said it now did not belong to his father; the voice that eroded at him during those last days on Mannassar. Filleted him. It was, however, a voice he had heard, recorded in holograms and sound-files. He knew this voice well, and he had waited years to hear its owner speak back to him. He had all but begged it’s owner to speak back to him; but not to address him as **Ben.**

So, asphalt lining his diaphragm, Kylo continued to revolve his gaze, slowly crossing one foot over the other as he swung his body around, searching for the source of the voice.

"Where are you?" he whispered, the words emerging as rough as igneous rock and brined in a decade of furious desperation.

Two meters in front of him a glimmer of powdery haze materialized between the trees, rapidly expanding and solidifying into a transparent, periwinkle body.

_Grandfather._

Not Vader. But the person he was before. A person who had also abandoned his name.

_Anakin Skywalker._

Anakin stood and watched him silently with a clear and unguarded gaze and Kylo took the silent moment to regard the man. His face was somehow ageless— caught in a continuum between 20 and 50. Waves of hair as long as Kylo's own brushed at robed shoulders. But where Kylo's features were pale and dark, Anakin's had contrastingly been burnished by the sun, even in this phantasmal form.

Kylo knew what he was looking at.

His grandfather had recorded a sort of autobiography. In these records Vader had described an inexplicable meeting on the planet Mortis with his first master, Qui-Gon Jinn— the Jedi who had discovered him as a child and freed him from slavery, then attempted to ensure his acceptance into the Jedi Academy. Qui-Gon Jinn had been killed soon after, but on Mortis he had been somehow present in physical form and able to speak. Vader had always sought to understand what had happened to allow the dead Jedi to communicate with him on Mortis. He never did.

However, Kylo's foolish uncle, Luke, had.

Luke had told him that on the night he had celebrated the victory of the Battle of Endor, his father appeared to him as a Force spirit, the same way Anakin had seen Qui-Gon. Luke had also told him he had learned how this was possible; how the soul of a deceased Force-sensitive person could manifest itself physically in the tandem energy of the Living and Comic Force.

But Luke had never indicated any other encounter with Anakin, which led Kylo to believe his grandfather's thereafter absence was intentional. Not neglect, but purposeful abandonment.

This was a mystery, like so many of the other secrets his uncle had kept from him, that was part of what paved his path to Snoke. Though, Snoke had lined that path with velvet.

And now, here his grandfather stood before him. Not Vader. Not masked. But, somehow, very much a reflection of himself. He fumbled.

"Why do you look like this?"

Anakin's sharp eyes moved over him, laden with something heavy. "Snoke told you that my death was caused a momentary lapse in strength and judgment;  _sentiment_. That is not true, Ben. My last decision was the culminating action of decades of rage and regret. I chose to kill Palpatine and save my son, Luke, to finally make things right. My intentions were genuine and lasting."

The words burned into Kylo like acid, pounding against too many years of carbonite-frozen conviction that had just begun to melt. Realization swept through him that he had been distracted, overwhelmed by his connection to Rey and the alternate universe she offered. She illuminated a future, letting his past be forgotten. But now, disbelief rushed back defiantly, scraping through his head in a deafening screech of ripping metal.

But Anakin continued speaking, his words piercing the gale. "I pulled myself out of the darkness and you can do the same. You've already started."

A searing rise of convoluted emotion like a chemical burn collected in him, coating his tongue with an acrid and irony film.

His words were numbing as they came out like gossamer thread, "But I killed my father. You did not kill your son."

Anakin regarded him for a moment, pale composure covering his expression, then quietly said. "You always have a choice, no matter what you've done." He paused, his somehow young face surfacing a sadness that aged him fifty years. "You will not be welcomed back to the lives you abandoned. But you still have the option to move forward and do something you believe is worthwhile."

"What? Be a Jedi again?" Kylo spat back, the idea scraping like broken glass.

"No." Anakin countered, his expression still placid and his voice calm. "You will never be a Jedi, again. You made that choice a long time ago. But that doesn't mean you can't do something you feel is right anymore."

"And what do you think I should do?"

"Do what you can."

Kylo closed his eyes and, breathing deeply, examined the statement. His body felt as tense as a suspended-bridge cable, holding everything up.

"Why are you finally speaking to me?"

"Because now I feel like I can trust you."

The words inexplicably both stung and consoled, like whiplash that somehow aligned his once crooked and aching spine. "Why?"

"Because of your choice to leave the First Order. Because of the things you have said recently about democracy."

"To Rey?"

Anakin nodded silently.

Contradicting pulses of sandpaper and silk ebbed through him. "So you have been here, all this time, watching everything?"

"Not everything." Anakin responded smoothly. "But I have always been here."

"And you didn't trust me before?"

"I didn't trust who you surrounded yourself with. I don't trust Snoke. I'm sure you would understand why— I don't fully know his intentions.

"All of these years you've talked to me, knowing there was a chance I had manifested myself in the Force and could hear you. I did. And I listened to the things you said, but I was not always the person you thought I was. So I let you keep your opinions without my influence.

"Ben, you always did what you believed was right or necessary. But now, I can tell you that what you have discussed with Rey, about reestablishing of a new form of Galactic democracy and removing Snoke from power, is something I also think is right."

Rey. Her name was more a part of this conversation than he would have expected. Like a sun or moon in a sky. However, she should never have been part of his sky. She was from another world.

"Rey— you want me to cooperate with her."

Anakin's expression was as taught as sculpted bronze, "That is your choice to make."

"And with all of this— you have been watching Rey too?"

Anakin shifted his posture, the first indication of unease he had exposed. A crackling shadow of curiosity welled in Kylo. "Yes, since she was born. You've been told how that happened."

"Snoke told me. Do you know who conceived her?"

"A group of remaining Jedi."

"Who?"

Anakin maintained a thick silence before carefully began to speak again, his voice deliberate but bearing a tone of disquietude. "Master Yoda, Master Qui-Gon Jinn, Master Obi-Wan Kenobi— and myself."

A sour current of antipathy surged in Kylo. But it made sense that old Masters of the Order would want to supersede nature for their own purposes. And he should not be surprised— if the Jedi would sacrifice an enslaved clone army three million strong, they would not balk at creating one life as an asset to be employed. It explained why she had been hidden away on Jakku throughout her life; why she had no one. Another example of the sullied corruption of the Order.

"Does she know you did this?" he spat.

"Yes." Anakin said the word with a scarcely concealed internal grimace.

"When was she told?"

"When you first took her to Mannassar."

Surprise struck him like a lash.  _Only since then?_ "How did she react?"

"She was angry, and distrustful."

 _Of course she was_ , Kylo thought, feeling a small, warm sense of satisfaction that Rey would recognize the Jedi for the vile disappointment that they were.

"And now?"

"I don't know for sure."

"So, then what? Why are you here?"

Anakin held his gaze for awhile before speaking, his eyes suddenly a kaleidoscope of emotion but his mouth a bare line. "Ben, I have wanted to be there for you since you were born. I never saw my son grow up, and watching you was a chance to do that again."

A movement of something frail and soft crested in him; a rupture of a chrysalis from pushing, dusty wings. Suddenly Kylo was reminded of what it felt like to be the 15 year old boy being told who to be, ravenous for someone to take him for what he already was.

"I've wanted to talk to you for your entire life, Ben." Anakin continued quietly. "But I couldn't interfere when your future was so uncertain."

"And now it's not?" The words felt brittle in his mouth,

"You have made some choices recently that have clarified your future. You've asked for my help for years, but I could never do that. Not until our intentions were the same."

"And now our intentions are the same?"

"I think so."

Kylo scrutinized the composure of Anakin's conjecture. Vader was the grandfather he would have laid all arms down for at a bare request. Vader was the one who should have accepted him; who Snoke had told him would have accepted him. But now, apparently, Vader wasn't ever there.

Anakin Skywalker was.

"So, what have you been doing all these years?" Kylo asked, grasping for something to ground him in this reality.

"Watching you, the Republic and the First Order."

"Have you talked to anyone else?"

"Yes."

"Who?"

"Rey, but only since Mannassar. And Luke. He is at the first Jedi temple, where he has been waiting for Rey."

Surprise collected in him, light and effervescent, to be told casually of the Jedi he had spent so long searching for. But now the target had lost every ounce of value. "Waiting for Rey?"

Anakin's face was completely impassive as he responded. "I agree with you that the Jedi became corrupt in their own way. But the Jedi also helped mediate peace for a thousand years and saved more lives than can be counted, which was their real intention.

"People who are born with the Force are not just given a gift. Rey has already proven she is someone who is not interested on wasting her abilities on herself alone."

"So, you expect Rey to go train with Luke?" Kylo asked.

"You are aware that the Jedi are gone, except Luke, who recognizes that he could use help. If Rey chooses to, she could become part of and reestablish the Order."

"You've told her this?"

"Not personally, but she has been told. Since her first night on Mannassar the three other masters and I have been communicating with her. We have asked her to consider this."

The air immediately felt very stale and solid, and the smell of decay and detritus rising from the ground filled his throat, lining his esophagus.

Of course Rey would. She was created for that purpose after all. And they would offer her a home.

How could he? He had no home for even himself.

And yet, here Anakin Skywalker was, after all these years. Why would he finally have decided to spare his time?

"Are you lying to me? About anything?" Kylo asked, his jaw tight.

A melancholy timbre moved across Anakin's face again, giving his skin the gnarled quality of granite. When he spoke, he said, "No. That would defeat the purpose of talking to you, after all these years— Ben, I want your help."

"And what do you want me to do?"

"Bring back peace."

Kylo scoffed, like he had just inhaled the dust of ancient, mummified wishes. "How?"

"Snoke is our greatest obstacle. And yours. You know that he'll kill you for what you've done. You may not agree the the Jedi should return, but should Snoke be allowed to prevent harmony through another round of Imperialism? Both of us know what he is capable of."

"You want me to kill Snoke?" Kylo asked, his voice thick with sedated scorn. Snoke's power was enough to collapse worlds. Killing him was not something that was simply done.

Anakin answered, "I want you to do what you think is needed. You've talked about the need for Snoke to be removed from power. Rey thinks this too, and intends to try. You could help her."

Dark, vague stretches of curiosity moved through him. Rey was still a bright, fascinating enigma that struck him continuously with her extraordinary aptitudes. But to rival Snoke?

"Are you going to help her?"

"I can't change the physical world."

"Then how would we be expected to do this? I have no idea how I could challenge Snoke; he is capable of too much."

"I don't know." Anakin said, his gaze firm. "But I know it is possible; I’ve seen a future without him."

 

* * *

 

Kylo stayed in the woods long after Anakin said goodbye to him and slipped back into nothingness. The conversation revolved in his mind until every word felt smeared into his blood and he couldn't call or feel anything but a slowly thrumming apprehension.

When Kylo emerged from the forest, Rey was waiting for him, sitting cross-legged at the edge of the forest. Her signature rippled around her in slow, heavy strokes, grey and hazy with anticipation. Turning her head at the sound of his footsteps she rose and turned to meet him.

"Let me show you something." She said bluntly, not asking what happened, not waiting to be told.

He nodded, feeling a rise of relief and gratitude to not have to make this account.

She turned slightly away, her eyes concentrating on one of the trees lining the forest, a large, brawny individual 20 meters away.

A bright, curling burst in her Force signature pleated away from her and stirred the air around them in a crescendo that grew to become a steady flurry of moaning wind that caught and violently thrashed his clothing and hair against his body. Then, following a simple gesture from her hand a swell of sand rose in a cloud near the tree, growing fuller and larger in a shapeless, swirling mass until it was fully opaque in the center.

Rey continued to stand motionless, but with the slightest tilt forward of her head, the body of sand mirrored the action and swept towards the tree in her line of focus, enveloping it until its trunk and branches were fully submerged in the cloud.

One, three, then five second passed, and abruptly, the sand fell, revealing empty space. Where the tree once stood, there was nothing left.

Rey turned back to him, a bright furor gleaming in her eyes. "While you were gone, I continued to think about what the Aing-Tii showed me yesterday. I wondered if I could recreate what the sand did, so I tried. And for whatever reason, it wasn't that difficult."

Wonder had already flooded him as he watched the wave sand swallow the tree. But now, to hear her describe what she had done as if she had simply learned to tie a knot; it defied his understanding of the Force.

She should not be capable of something like this. Not so soon, if at all. But she had accomplished one impossible feat after another on theory alone since he first encountered her.

The prickling presentiment settled in his belly that perhaps she would fully and instinctively be able to harness her unprecedented raw power to do whatever she wanted.

He knew Snoke was capable of raising windstorms, like the dust storm they had flown away from when fleeing Mannassar— but to fully devour and deconstruct something like she had done? He has never seen Snoke do something like that, and doubted if the Sith Lord would be able to.

"Have you only done this to trees?" he asked.

She nodded, "I can try something else though—". She scanned the surroundings, and her gaze settled on one of the behemoth rock formations rising from the shoreline, 20 meters high and 10 wide of jagged stone.

Her eyes tightened in concentration, and the wind rose again. The gale swiftly grew more intense until it howled furiously like a pack of predators, blurring the line of the ground into a haze of sand that groaned as if the earth itself were moaning. A deep, pulling vibration sunk into his bone marrow.

Kylo looked to Rey's face, but her expression remained focused and impassive; as smooth as an eggshell.

With a mild lean of her brow toward the stone pinnacle, the wind collected in a groaning but graceful rush and raised a ring of sand around the body of rock. The sand obediently swept up in a solid, ochre curtain and blanketed the mammoth boulder in a nebula three times its size, blocking out the sky behind it.

Ten seconds passed, and then the wind fell like the last layer of rain. Everything was still, except for a darkened stretch of sand spread far around where the gargantuan rock should have rested.

She had done it, effortlessly.

Rey turned back to him, her eyes wide and dark but vibrant.

Then it clicked. The Aing-Tii would have to have had a reason to show her what they did last night, and they were known for having a pre-eminent understanding of the future.

"Perhaps you could do this to Snoke." He said abruptly, his words clipped and impulsive. He gestured to the area of darkened sand behind her, "His power only exists through the midi-chlorians that still live in his body. If you separated them from him, he would have no way to resurrect himself."

Rey regarded him in silent patience, then finally responded carefully, "Are you sure?"

"No, not entirely." Kylo said, his voice low and reverberating. But the possibility was there. And it was a strong one.

Snoke was arrogant. The Supreme Leader had always made deliberate attempts at caution, and for all of his wisdom and pre-mediation that was part of his careful planning, he was inherently impatient.

Snoke was intelligent enough to foresee most probabilities, and he was cunning enough to generally influence the future however he desired. But his egotism made him much too impulsive for devising the calculated defensive strategies that would be required in the situations he was unexpectedly unable to control. Thus, Starkiller had been destroyed.

And thus, perhaps, they could use this arrogance to their advantage to destroy him.

However, even if they could develop a plan that would out-maneuver Snoke's preconceptions and lure him into a trap built for his egotistical faults, would they be powerful enough to kill him?

He had no idea.

"There is someone who might know." Rey responded, her voice soft. "The Jedi masters. Would you mind if I asked them?"

The question struck a deep bass chord. Anakin had told him that they had watched and communicated with Rey— but for her to speak to them at will? It wasn't something he was certain how to feel about, and the dark ambiguity rumbled in him. But she had every right, so he nodded curtly.

She held his gaze for a while, and it was obvious she was reading his expression. Her brow curled just barely in admonition of his response, but her face and gaze remained soft, feathered tips of grass swaying gently. He nodded again, urging her forward, and she dipped her head slightly in return, then quietly said, "Masters?"


	16. Proposition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some cool people discuss the fate of the galaxy.

 

 

 

They appeared immediately, the four of them standing beside Rey and Kylo, pale and thinly visible in the midday light.

To see Yoda, Qui-Gon Jinn and Obi-Wan Kenobi, each masters of his grandfather and some of the most renowned Jedi of the last millennia—his lungs felt too full to contract.

They looked to him, their expressions inquisitive, but unobtrusive and serene. After a brief pause, Qui-Gon then Yoda and Obi-Wan bowed to him, their arms tucked formally into their robes. He trembled.

"It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Kylo Ren." Qui-Gon said smoothly. "Thank you for what you have done for Rey."

Hearing this name said by Qui-Gon Jinn, the grey Jedi that had seen the errors of the Order, and who had salvaged the life of his grandfather, filled his mouth with gravel. The name Ren was given. The name Kylo, he chose, a Sith Old-Tongue word he had almost forgotten the meaning of.

Obi-Wan smiled, then added in his trim and rolling accent, "We can't tell you how glad we are that she has had your help."

Nodding, Yoda added, his eyes glimmering even in his translucent form, "Surprised us, you have. Happy, you have made us."

His throat closed, and he could not respond. A barrage of something thrashed inside of him. So, he clenched his jaw and and nodded.

The Jedi smiled at him once more, them turned their eyes to Rey.

Anakin spoke. "Why have you asked us to come, Rey?"

She spoke quietly, her eyes sweeping between the Jedi. "Are you aware of our conversation? Regarding Snoke?"

The masters nodded silently.

"Can this be done? Can he be killed?"

Qui-Gon spoke, "Kylo was right. There are ways to prevent a soul manifested in the Force from reincarnation, and one of those is irreparable dissolution or damage to the midi-chlorians and their host. If you were to separate Snoke's body--his cells--from the midi-chlorians that are part of him, he would not be able to take a physical life again."

"But distracted, Snoke must be. Powerful, he is." Yoda added.

Kylo considered this. The hundred interrogations he had spent hideous hours performing surfaced in his thoughts. He had taken no pleasure in withdrawing information from those he questioned, but his skill for it was a tool the First Order considered necessary, and so he had broken innumerable minds.

With individuals who resisted his probing with any degree of Force sensitivity, he would inflict a distracting pain to break down the mind's shields. As he practiced, gruesomely, he became more and more adept, though any influence of the consciousness was essentially a skill that he was innately accomplished in. It was never difficult to administer pain to the mind— almost no one was capable of defending against such an attack. For even the strongest of Force sensitives it took all of their concentration to resist him and eventually their minds would always bend in submission.

He could engage Snoke's attention if Rey could attack him.

"I could distract him," he said quickly, looking to the Masters. "I will not be able to attack him, but I can incapacitate his mind through pain, and that will allow Rey to act."

The Jedi considered his statement for awhile, exchanging glances with slightly raised or furrowed brows.

"That could work." Obi-Wan finally said pensively. "But you are sure you could incapacitate him effectively?"

"No, but I think it is possible. Enough to try."

"I agree." Qui-Gon said suddenly, his voice direct. "Snoke feels an extraordinary amount of fear for someone as powerful as he is. His mind will be susceptible to preoccupation from Kylo, and he will underestimate what Rey is capable of, giving her the opportunity to act. We have the element of surprise, and I expect Rey and Kylo may be successful."

"Yes." Yoda added, his eyes closed and his voice laden with thought. "Uncertain the future always is, though your success I sense." He opened his eyes and nodded, smiling. "But act quickly, you must." Yoda said with uncharacteristic emphasis. "Capable of sensing the future also, Snoke is. The longer you consider this attack, greater the shadow of threat he will perceive."

"But how could this attack take place?" Obi-Wan asked.

"Snoke is arrogant." Kylo answered. This was something he had considered for a long time. He just never had a weapon powerful enough until now. Until Rey.

 "I believe, with some confidence, that if we signaled our location to him in a remote or unoccupied territory where there was no evidence that Rey and I were accompanied, he would come.

“But he would not bring an army-- Snoke is very private and would want to keep this situation involving Rey and myself hushed. He would perhaps bring a small armed guard, but still he would believe himself capable of personally quelling any threat Rey or I would pose.

“And he would not attempt to attack us immediately. He would be too curious-- he would want to understand what has happened. And he would want to keep Rey alive regardless. If he has determined I am to die, based on my earlier decisions, he would find some use for Rey alive."

After a moment of consideration, Yoda nodded and said, "Compelling, Kylo's argument is."

"It does seem sensible." Obi-Wan added, moving his eyes between Anakin and Qui-Gon, who both nodded approvingly.

"The question," Qui-Gon said, "is when to act."

Rey and Kylo walked the shoreline as the sun sunk towards the horizon. Mostly, they walked in silence, watching the changing colors of the darkening atmosphere. Words drifted from him in weathered phrases like driftwood. She responded primarily in gestures and glances; words feeling inadequate. Still, their shoulders and wrists occasionally brushed, and each stroke of contact coursed through every inch of her warm and welcome.

She had spent much of the afternoon experimenting with her control of the wind. After a last venture, where the sand clouds she raised had blocked out the sun, though skimming around a pocket of still, calm air that enveloped her and Kylo, she felt confident there was little more that she could do.

Yoda's warning on the need for expedience and the vehement pulling of anticipation had led them to decide that in the morning they would leave. There was no purpose in staying; the wind and sand had responded to her as obediently as her own breathing; she didn't know how else to practice the manipulation of them.

She and Kylo had decided they would go somewhere and signal their presence to Snoke; to lure him somewhere with sand.

She decided it would be Jakku.

It felt illusory, but imperative. Qui-Gon's confidence and Yoda's premonition breathed the tenacity of determination into her, which melded with adrenaline and coursed like fine, soft silt through her arteries, holding her up straight.

There had always been a future boasting belonging and reason that had rested somewhere beyond the horizons of sand. That future had been taken away. Now, there was just her and Kylo and, still, the sand. She had nothing left to wait for.

So, she would do what was asked of her and what would give a trillion other lives more opportunity than they currently possessed. She had known some happiness in her abiding loneliness, and she may know more yet. She was willing to live with that possibility. But she was not willing to continue to abide a future that remained uncertain. And she had Kylo with her, for as long as he would stay.

But— if they lived, where would he go? And, where would she?

The terrifying unknown potential was, for the the first time, freeing.

.

.

It was night and they were curled around each other. Like her legs, her hands were folded into him, occasionally releasing handfuls of cloth when she would lift them from one place to another. His breath reminded her of clear water; something she never would have expected. But the conflicting urgency and reserve that he touched her with surprised her; he held her firmly as if she would slip away given an opportunity, but his mouth only lightly traced her own.

The last time they had kissed he had soaked her in entirely like a crackled stretch of scorched clay ground absorbing rain.

This time, he held her like a rope he was using to ascend a sheer and vertical mountainside. His hands held taut to her, but every movement was delicate; like he was constantly testing a pin wedged into a crease in the rock a thousand meters above.

She pressed herself slowly tighter into him, willing him to relax. She wasn't going anywhere.

The moments of connection and belonging moved on, but though he never withdrew—rather his hands slid very slowly and carefully deeper into her hair and along her spine—the coil that was wound so tightly in him, inhibiting him, never loosened.

Breathing gently, she pulled gingerly away to see his face. It was dark, his body just a silhouette against the scarcely gleaming lines of the the ocean behind him, lapping in long strokes against the shore. But his Force signature radiated in a soft, fluttering current; it had no edges, no erratic movements indicating dark sentiments, but fear? Maybe.

"What is it?" she asked.

"What is what?" his voice was low and smooth like rolling stones.

"Why are you being so… restrained?"

A drawling silence settled before he responded, his voice as still as the surface of underwater reservoir. "If we're successful, what will you do?"

The words glared at her like a headlight. It felt as if she and Kylo would have to cross empty space and into another galaxy to reach to Jakku again. Then, what would happen there was so uncertain she had thought almost nothing of the outcome; not wanted to expect anything. Almost not wanting to consider what she needed to do.

Something Obi-Wan had told her weeks ago had reverberated in her until it had been absorbed into the lining of her chest. Overtime she felt it in her breathing whenever things were quiet enough.

There had been things she had been asked to do by the Jedi. Though, those things were as necessary to her survival as it may have been part of their self-serving objectives.

Still, she admired the Jedi for what she had learned of them, and, despite everything, she felt a pull to them: a bright gossamer line that had formed a gentle harness around her heart. They reminded her of clouds, something she had always longed for on Jakku like grass or blossoming trees or water.

Obi-Wan had said,  _"The future has presented only one option, in you, but there are things that can not be asked."_

She would help Kylo, like he had helped her. Afterward, she wasn't sure.

"I don't know what I'll do— what I can do. I don't have a home anymore to go back to." She paused, realizing she didn't want to continue dwelling on herself, then asked, "What will you do?"

"With Snoke gone— there are sections of the First Order that, with the right manipulation, could be disassembled from within, especially after the destruction Starkiller. It weakened faith and resolve greatly. I could instigate an internal collapse. And with a disruption of some of the Order's trade agreements, tensions from the lack of resources and capital could become overwhelming. Some of the other leadership would need to be removed too."

"And you can do this?"

"Of course not all of it, but some of it I can. What I can't others can." He paused and the waves of his Force signature rushed out in a petal-thin flare, then drew slowly back in. Quietly, his voice like branches of coniferous trees brushed by wind, he asked, "Would you do this with me?"

Uncertainty expanded and dragged roughly over her skin at the idea of placing herself in a situation like that. It was too much and there would be too many people, a military-industrial complex that was a galactic jungle of economics and politics and bureaucracy she knew nothing about.

That was a world she had no place in. At least at no time in a future she could see.

"I don't think so," she responded gently, honestly. “I don’t want to.”

After a spare pause Kylo asked, "What do you want?"

"I want to be useful, I just don't know how yet. I know nothing about your world, but it would take too long to learn. And I doubt I have the aptitude or predisposition for it."

Kylo exhaled in a sharp breath, his Force signature pulling in and contracting. "Are you considering going to Luke?"

"Yes." she answered bluntly, but didn't say anymore.

The Jedi were a tree that may have strangled itself with its own roots in the last part of the millennia, but this tree had given fruit and shelter for so long and over so many life spans. There was no collective entity in the universe that gave without thought of reward like the Jedi. They had done things that were wrong, but the things that they had done that were right far outweighed their recorded misjudgments that she was aware of.

There was also a universe of other options, but none that were clearly visible or that she felt drawn to. Perhaps what she would find with Luke was a belonging and purpose that would be enough. It felt like the right thing to do. If not, she would move on.

And there was comfort in the knowledge that Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan, Anakin and Yoda would go with her. Somehow, despite everything, they had become as close to her family as she ever had.

But in a way, so had Kylo.

It was strange, she had rarely formed connections to anyone else on Jakku, other than Shinnden and Eteth. Other beings on Jakku held as little value for her as scrap metal. Often, the metal’s sharp edges cut her as she squeezed through collapsed passageways.

Yet, since she had first met BB-8, she had felt tied to each new person to cross her path: Finn, Han, Chewie, Maz and now, Kylo. Assuming connection to these people was like padding her heart with layers of down against the emptiness of winter, but still, she didn't know what to do with these relationships.

Spending most of her life alone left her with so many unanswered questions on interpersonal expectations— how was she bound to the people she cared for? Were they, or she, to be expected to come and go like the seasons? Like comets?

How was she bound to Kylo? She didn't know, but if she went to Luke, Kylo's past and her future would be like fire and water.

But she could not go to the First Order. She could not be a part of that.

And Kylo could not come with her.

But if they separated, at least for awhile, they could each do some good. And that was worthwhile.

She felt Kylo nod with a tight and shallow movement at her response about going to Luke. The strained and slow pulse in his chest brushed out to her in soft ripples. She reached to him again and placed her hand on his collar bone. He was as still as basalt under her touch. Still, she felt the skin and fabric warm below her palm.

The silence continued for a long time except for the rhythms of their bodies and the ocean.

Finally, slipping her hand down his chest and back to her side she laid down on the sand to sleep.

Kylo mirrored her, reaching out to lay the back of his own hand against her neck.

She focused on the feeling of her carotid artery pulse against his skin while her body stilled and sleep began to settle over her.

.

 


	17. Abrasion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Space-Team pops open a can of whoop-ass.

.

"Rey. It's morning"

He brushed his fingers lightly over her cheek bone and traced them up to her brow, covered in early sunlight. She always slept very still, but the tempest of her dreams thrashed in the air around her like a woodwind symphony. It had been a while since he had decided staying near her at night was worth the impossibility of sleep during her periods of dreaming. Yet, in these forced hours of wakefulness, he had grown to love speculating at what she was seeing or doing in her sleeping beautiful mind, based off the ferocity of the Force-flow emanating from her.

Her eyes opened, already wide-awake and still a little hollow from the loneliness of a lifetime. But when she looked at him, they filled with something that diffused a curling, delicious heat into his muscles that melded every component of his chest into something that felt intact and secure.

She smiled and watched him for a few seconds, nameless thoughts flowing behind her eyes, then pushed herself upright and quietly said, "Let's go". Standing, she twisted her arms up and above her in a stretch.

He stood with her, admiring the grace and strength of her body.

Immediately, she set off towards his ship and he followed her.

Rey walked fluidly out of the daylight and in through the dark hatch directly towards the cockpit without a last look to the seascape. They had not seen the Aing-Tii since the monk had placed the sand in Rey's hand, and Rey seemed to have no other connection to this place except an open admiration for its beauty.

But before he stepped into the ship, he needed to see the shore one more time, to remember it; how the sand had scrubbed the ingrained layers of smoke off of his skin and the ocean water had then washed the remnants away.

He was still the same person with the same history, but now he was offered a new universe of possibility for his future.

When he finally walked up the ramp, he did not follow Rey's path through the dim cabin. Instead, he strode to the seamless wall compartment where he had kept the two lightsabers. He had never needed his own here in this tranquil place, so it was stored away from the humidity and salt. Placing his palm against the safe's security access pad, invisibly encased by the matte durasteel walls of the ship, the cabinet door opened. He took his own saber from the compartment within and clipped it onto his hilt. He would need it soon.

Then he reached for the other one. But now it wasn't for him. He had no reason to hold on to it anymore.

All of the velvet and obsidian legitimacy of his imagined ancestor was gone. And with that, his desire to cling to the Sith had been purged.

What was left was a smoky grey haze, comfortable and shielding. Now, he owed nothing to anyone. He was his own to do whatever he wanted.

Closing the cabinet door with an exhale, Kylo turned and moved towards the cockpit. Rey looked over her shoulder at him from the co-pilot's chair and smiled like water as he strode through the frame. Stopping at her shoulder he extended his hand. In it, her offered her the ebony and chrome cortosis hilt.

A overcast shadow crossed over her as she regarded it.

"You still have it." her words lowered at the end, not in a curious question, but in solemn recognition. He remembered how he had once told FN-2187, who was beside her at that time, that it belonged to him. How he had taken it after disarming both of them.

"It's yours now. You'll need it."

Her eyes lifted to him again, filled with something hidden behind his own reflection. Slowly, she reached out and haltingly placing her hand over the grip as if expecting a reaction. After a brief pause, she accepted its weight and lifted it. But immediately she set it in a space on her seat to be ignored beside her and turned back to the controls.

"I'll initiate you in using it on the way to Jakku."

She nodded bluntly, refocused, and continued the process of preparing the ship for departure.

 

 

* * *

 

Inhaling a deep, hot lungful of air, Kylo tightened his jaw and went to sit next to Rey.

"This heat is unreal. How are you?" he asked quietly.

She turned to look at him, mild humor on her features, but her jaw set. "I'm fine. Though, tired of waiting."

On the flight to Jakku she had proven to be just as rawly capable with a lightsaber as with her staff, despite the difference in its weight and the technique it required. Now that he had become so familiar with her signature, he had felt her draw upon the Force, inhaling it to guide every movement instinctually to remarkable efficiency. It wasn't that she had been trained or was talented in dueling technique, it was that she sensed every one of his actions before he had begun it, and was constantly intuiting the most effective angle of parry or offensive strike she could take herself. But even her incredible, innate skill would be nothing against Snoke, who would never even bother to engage in physical combat.

If he couldn't adequately distract the Muun, Snoke would disarm and kill Rey immediately through the Force alone.

On the flight Kylo had tried to convince Rey not to do this thing one last time. Although the dead Jedi had all spoken so optimistically about the future, he felt hacked with grinding, churning worry Rey would not survive this attempt on Snoke's life.

But she had refused to back down. Her commitment was unsettling.

Yes, Snoke would hunt her for the rest of her life, and he had explained to her how she would be inevitably found because of her blaring Force signature. Snoke would be forever determined to either corrupt her power or extinguish it. But she showed no personal inclination to saving herself. She only ever indicated that she wanted to help _him_.

No one had ever wanted to help him. Use him, yes. Empower him, maybe. But help him?

So, there was no hesitance in lying himself down for her. He would do anything. And perhaps, using the Force alone, she could fight back against Snoke. With her everything was somehow possible.

But if they made it— what then? He could not go with her to find Luke. But, to lose her would be to lose the only light in his world. Still, it made sense why she would leave. And that filled him with river of tumbling, shards of rock.

* * *

It shook her bones from the first moment of approach. Snoke was coming. That familiar austere bass played and pulsed in each of the thousand arteries of her head, signaling his proximity, and she remembered immediately the feeling of a thousand pieces of crushed glass slicing through skin.

The sun had set almost an hour ago over the vast, empty dunes. So, when she looked up to the direction his descent would be from, there was a sinister ember glow growing bolder with each second.

"Kylo," she called quietly, and he emerged soon after from the ship where he had been meditating.

His eyes landed on the approaching vessel, then flashed to her. He looked young and so human, but the determination of his set jaw made him as formidable as the first time she saw him in that vision on Takodana— pushing his scarlet blade into someone who had raised a weapon to her— and as daunting as the first time she saw him in person. He had been a shadow made of flesh, deflecting her bullets effortlessly as he stalked toward her, freezing her in place, taking consciousness from her without explanation. She had never really admired his power, as any admiration was initially overwhelmed by fear, then anger, and finally the slow transformation of confusion into appreciation of his generosity. Now, she felt relief to have him here with her.

He didn't say anything as he regarded her. But the way he looked at her, she knew that, if she wanted, she could have a home in him.

Her inhalation trembled. A floret whose petals caught in the wind and shivered.

"Thank you," she whispered. For everything.

He smiled gently, and the expression was barely illuminated by the sliver of the cresting moon. "Thank you," he echoed, though his voice has become muffled by the approach of the starship.

They turned back to watch its landing. As the Rugess Nome design drew near enough to ground it started the reverse-engage of its proton engines in preparation for landing. In reaction the twin engine nacelles fired white-hot spotlights, though the wings of the ship extended smoothly to create the needed resistance to finally swoop fluidly to alight on the ground like a great, onyx hawk. Rey had never seen such a graceful ship.

The cloud of dust raised by the ship's landing gleamed in the moonlight then slowly began to settle while she and Kylo stood side by side, waiting for whatever was coming. A low, thrumming beat in the Force flowed heavily from the ship across the 10 meter distance.

Then, the boarding ramp descended like a tongue from the glowing crimson mouth of the ship. Immediately, a parade of six sleek, dark figures moved down the ramp and fanned out with the coordination of wolves into a defensive formation.

Recognizing Derisdem Ren among them, she turned to inspect Kylo's reaction. His expression indicated nothing as he watched them in silence.

She had avoided asking him about Derisidem while on the Aing-Tii homeworld. There was no pretending his past didn't exist, but there was no reason to bring it up when he had clearly demonstrated through every action since leaving Mannassar that he had chosen to unequivocally abandon it. But what would this mean to him? Having to face these people alongside Snoke?

On their journey he had forewarned her that the Knights of Ren would likely come with the Sith Lord. He had said that holding them off would be nothing. Still, she didn't know how he would feel about it. He had obviously developed some form of connection to them, which was evident even in his smoothened tone of voice when he spoke about them.

"Will you be alright?" she asked quietly, trying to indicate support in her tone, rather than questioning.

"Yes," he said shortly, then stepped forward, placing his body to slightly shield her from the others. The was a rustle among them at his movement, but no real reaction from the masked figures.

Then, the sonorous purr emanating from the ship stilled to a perfect silence so the only sound remaining was the steady murmur of sand being swept across the desert floor by the light breeze .

Snoke, cloaked in robes that streamed behind him like trails of ink in water, appeared at the mouth of the ship and descended in long, careful strides, stopping behind his ensemble of guards. Yet, when he spoke, his tenebrous voice covered the distance as if he were directly in front of them.

"Such a disappointment."

Neither she nor Kylo responded, and Snoke continued to regard them inquisitively. His face in the moonlight looked like it was carved roughly from weathered chalk. But the light pooled in his large, dark eyes, making them appear soft and almost benign. The bright eyes of a wise grandfather. Everything about his physical appearance could be deceptive, giving the impression of weakness and benevolence. But the extreme mutilations scarring his decrepit body were contradictorily evident of just how powerful he was.

"You could have done anything, Kylo Ren. And yet, here you are, as weakened and foolish as your grandfather. I would be very curious as to what your explanation would be. Although, I have no patience to hear it."

Kylo offered no reaction to Snoke as he spoke, his body as still as a block of uranium.

Then, the air tightened and convulsed around them, charging: Snoke was summoning lightning.

Immediately, Rey felt an reactive explosion of Force energy peeling away from Kylo's body like the many concussive shells of a supernovae. _He's begun,_ she thought, and swallowing acrid fascination, she turned back to watch the effects.

Regarding Snoke, Kylo asked, "Can you still feel it, Master?"

Snoke shuddered, his expression alarmed but obviously incapacitated by something invisible. He made a frail attempt to speak but Kylo interrupted.

"The Awakening." His voice turned caustic and incisive, _"Have you felt it?"_ To Snoke's agape, sharply focused eyes, Kylo continued, "Tell me Master, what do you feel now?"

Like pillars tumbling forward, the Knights each advanced in quick, splintered steps, as if they were pulling their bone joints out of their sockets.

And Kylo held his arms up as if halting them, his Knights of Ren, to stop.

Then, all the energy contained within him burst, unleashing a furious wave of resounding Force vibrations.

The Knights halted abruptly and each fell, crippled, to their knees. Derisidem was the last to scream among the others who wailed like asteroids burning through the atmosphere.

Beside her Kylo blazed hot like a furnace. But from concentrating all the Force power that he could wield on Snoke and the Knights of Ren, a kind of hole open in the back of his mind, exposing itself to her. Standing beside him there was no way to avoid witnessing his thoughts, to feel the backwash of agony that he felt within himself from the Knights who writhed now on the ground. He was using their strengths against them, their fears. Not only searing pain into their every neuron, but also slinging thoughts, horrific thoughts into their minds.

Still, Snoke advanced over the litter of bodies like a thundercloud, and Kylo threw everything he had left into an final assault onto the Munn.

Snoke was then halted too. His eyes half closed, he started to sway like a toppling tree, then through a taught throat he rattled a whisper. "Foolish." Suddenly, the long-healed wounds on his skull and jaw seemed to gleam in the moonlight

Kylo was becoming weak, draining fast. She'd been watching this unfold like a spectator, and now she reminded herself that she had a responsibility to perform.

Stepping out from behind him the world fell silent. She let the extension of her consciousness in the Force flow through the sand like heat from Jakku's baking sun. Though this, she willed the sand to rise.

A stream of particles lifted from the ground surrounding the mangled black bodies in front of her, like rain ascending back into a cloud. She closed her eyes, her breathing trembling.

Snoke, on his knees now, looked above him at the collecting mass of sand. A hollow wonder on his face, like perhaps he already knew.

Deresidem rose in fractured movements to a stand and the took a labored step towards them, her determination grinding through the Force waves. Unexpectedly, Kylo's signature waned. Suddenly, Rey remembered what Kylo had said on Starkiller base, before her capture, before the Aing-tii: __. While continuing to will the sand to rise she also leaned into him, speaking to him. _'You can do this.'___

And he did. Derisidem collapsed to the ground again like crushed moth wings.

The desert floor began to roil in a dark ocean around them, pitching like waves in a storm. The silica kicked up from the turmoil gleamed as a hundred million little suns.

With a final pulse, Rey released the sand over the Knights and Snoke. It enveloped them in a thick smoke of silver and rust which congealed into a seething, screeching mass. In moments the Knights and Snoke disappeared behind its condensing body. Flashes of lightning borne from the friction of the screaming sand exploded out the sides of the storm, momentarily burning a still-life image of the victims writhing within it into Rey's eyes. She shut them but still she saw.

She never wanted anything like this. How could she be doing this?

Then, Kylo fell to his knees. His ragged, cleaving exhaustion mingled with the torture he felt coming back upstream from the Knights, from Snoke. As if their skin was on fire. Teeth inserted into their organs.

At his pain she was reminded. She was doing this for him. For Han. For the lives in the Hosnian system incinerated by the First Order. It had to be stopped.

Rey focused the last of her energy onto the storm. Lightning flashed inside once more and she saw another image of Snoke, just a pile of pale angles. His jaw was missing, his robes too. His half-eroded body lit brightly in the flare of light, lodging itself into her mind like a stake. She closed her eyes and pulled her hands into to fists and simultaneously tightened and quickened the storm.

And it was done; there was nothing left inside of it. Rey fell, panting, to the ground with Kylo, and the sand fell too.

A strange silence settled over the desert. She and Kylo were alone, before a stretch of garnet stained sand casting back the starlight.


	18. Bond

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much everyone staying with me to this end! I hope I brought you some small happiness. Either way, I send you all my love.

Rey turned, shying away from the expanse of colored sand in front of her like a deer from a watching predator. It was done, but what had happened— how could she have done that?

How could she have taken life like that— of so many? Regardless of whatever crimes these beings committed, what gave her the right?

Sand clung to her skin, like it always had, but now she felt filthy.

She looked to Kylo, afraid of what she would see in his eyes.

His gaze was still locked onto the place that she couldn't stand to look at. Even in the faint moonlight, his eyes were full with the density of the earth, ten thousand meters deep to a molten core. But, he didn't look to her and show her any of the things she was terrified she would see. She inhaled deeply.

After all of this, he was still here. This impossible person. It felt like if she reached out to touch him he would disintegrate and drift in a slow haze away into the sky.

She did anyway, the desire to feel him deep in her belly. As she placed her palm on his sternum, he drew his gaze back to her face.

The lines of his face softened like milk. Something crossed his lips that wasn't quite a smile, instead it was austere and melancholy, but reverent. He slipped his hands up and into her hair and held her, cradling her.

There was nothing she could say that would feel appropriate in this aftermath of what she had just done; grinding life away. But his touch consoled her. The fear that had clamped at her loosened its hold, gradually melting away until all that was left was a bitter and heavy residue.

Placing her own hands on his, she felt the course of life that flowed methodically through him; the Force that emanated and lapped in variable surges laden with the influence of thought and feeling.

How could he be so accepting of what she did? How could he stand to be here, at all?

There was nothing left for them here.

"Let's go," she rasped.

He nodded, and moving his hands down her arms, he clasped her hand. She let him take it and then walked beside him as they climbed back into his ship. The lingering warmth of the metal paneling encased them, and was comforting compared to the night chill of the open desert. The barrier even more so. She felt safer. No one but Kylo could see her here.

When they entered the cockpit she immediately moved for the pilot's seat.

She wanted to go to her AT-AT, the only home she had, and she wanted to fly there herself. Kylo complied silently and sat beside her in the co-pilot's chair.

Looking at the chrome control panel, shining with a hundred little lights, she realized that she felt no excitement to fly this gorgeous command shuttle; no trace of eagerness that would have once filled her to begin the ignition procedures and then guide the vessel to its graceful flight.

The world tasted chalky and dry.

Engaging the sublight drive and Quadex power core for the process of take-off was fluid and incredibly minimal. The shuttle was like nothing she had ever experienced in her flight simulators, or the raw, ponderous power of the Falcon. Still, every movement felt mechanical. She felt Kylo watching her carefully but ignored him as she worked.

When they began cruising at low altitude on route towards her old home, Kylo spoke gently, his voice cautious and tired.

"How are you?"

She glanced over at him. Even seated there he was striking; his body full of some raw, salient power. The intelligence and charisma that resonated from him was present in his eyes and posture as always, adjacent to those shadows she knew would never be fully illuminated. But he looked drained, emptied of something. The intense determination that usually rested in his brow and jaw was softened. Only his shoulders were rigid.

"I don't know." And she really had no idea. She felt crumbled into something she couldn't identify. An overturned ceramic bowl that used to hold resolve and hope.

She'd never hurt anyone before that wasn't completely in self-defense. And, perhaps this was defense. But it was pre-meditated.

It had seemed so impossible before, when they had planned it. Still, she had meant to do what she did, and she sought her target out. Lured it.

Was she a murderer?

The rest of the flight was a silent ride through a dark sky and over a silver desert that rippled below them like liquid iron. Kylo watched the landscape carefully as they flew over it; tense and restrained. She was grateful for this restraint. Still, the emotions that wavered under his shields kicked out rapid, frequent flares of energy.

When they touched down beside her small dune and the abandoned, wrecked Walker, she led him into the place where she once had lived.

The smell was welcoming; musty sand and the tang of oil. Each plane or angle of metal, still giving off a faint, radiant heat from the day, was reassuring and safe. The wall of scratch marks that had once been a source of chagrin was now nostalgic.

The place had been picked through by other scavengers, but there was so little of value that only several items were missing. She didn't care; if anything she was glad someone had put them to their own use. Still, her doll was on its shelf beside the cookstove and the dried flowers were in the cup like she had left them.

She didn't look at the wall of marks. She would never have to again.

But she saw Kylo's gaze held on it; but he did not looked curious, he looked grieved.

"Kylo--" she said quietly, prying his attention away. He looked to her with full, brimming eyes.

Her tattered hammock was still there, which she went to, looking over and pulling at him with her eyes as she slipped into it. He followed in his typical, feline grace, despite his muscular height. Then they were cocooned in the old, worn fabric. They were safe.

Some minutes passed by, and still he didn't say anything. It was clear he was waiting for her to speak first. She could only imagine how her signature was thrashing away from herself, if it behaved anything like Kylo's

But there was no order to her thoughts. It was like trying to catch moths that flew around in her mind, which felt as cavernous and labyrinthian as one of Jakku's downed Star Destroyers.

Finally, after so long she had no idea how much time had passed, she found something coherent and specific to say. Still the words snagged in her throat bits of paper coated in glue like as she forced them out.

"What do you think of me now? Is it different than before?"

"No."

"But what I did? To those people. To Sno—"

"—was necessary." Kylo interrupted her. "Rey, it needed to be done. And that you could do it— no-one would disagree with me that what you did was incredible, and right."

That Kylo had killed others was something she had considered often. He was part of a war that he also believed was necessary, and he also believed the things he chose to do were right.

She knew that he had never in any way enjoyed killing, and that he took no pleasure in causing pain. The times she saw from his eyes, pushing the plasma of his saber into another body, she had felt his molten anguish. Except for when dueling. She had seen how he loved to use his lightsaber, when he trained or when he fought someone who could resist him enough to put up a fight. Even when Finn fought him as she lay asleep in the snow. Kylo had savored the blows he rained down against Finn's lightsaber blade.

Kylo spoke again, drawing her from these thoughts. "Rey, don't think of the death. Think of what will be saved by what you did.

"There were so many lies I chose to believe when I was part of the Order. In a way, I didn't believe them, I just ignored them. I justified them in my own way. The violent colonization of systems that was validated as a way to remove corrupt New Republic influence. The worlds that were bound in slavery to be capital factories. The ethnic cleansing that occurred.

You opened my eyes and showed me the genocide that Snoke was capable of. That the First Order was performing. How nothing good was coming from it; after two decades there was only more destruction.

"The New Republic is broken, yes. But the First Order is rabid. That Starkiller would actually be used the way it was— to destroy an entire system with billions of lives. Nothing should have or wield that power.

"Then, you ended it." The conviction in his hoarse voice was tangible. His body taut as a cello string, even as they lay curled into each other. She knew he was trying to convince her, but that bitter residue from before was still between them, not letting him in.

"But I murdered seven living beings," she countered. The words slicing their way out.

"Murder is subjective." His voice was final, almost irritated. The pulse of rage she knew dwelled inside of him had been subdued for a long time, but now it glowed faintly like an ember disturbed from dormancy.

She shut her mouth and closed her eyes.

Sighing, Kylo continued, "You are one of the most moral individuals I've ever met. The things I've seen in your mind… But that doesn't give you the right to determine morality for the rest of us. Especially when you've had so little opportunity to see the worlds outside of Jakku.

"If you are a murderer, I truly am a monster. And I can't tolerate that. Not if I am going to find a way to be with you in the future."

Her breath hitched. "Be with me? You said you were going back to the First Order. To break it apart."

"Yes, to deconstruct it— at least where I have any influence. I was wrong about things. Maybe I was mislead, but I allowed it, and I was wrong." His voice was softer than she expected, though deliberate.

"Are you looking for redemption?" she asked quietly, feeling frayed by the words.

He scoffed, but not viciously. Still, there was a darkness to the sorrow that shrouded his voice. "There is no redemption in my future. Or restitution. Some things can be corrected, but not ever undone."

Rey closed her eyes. She agreed. As much as she didn't want to, she agreed. And it felt so good to recognize that fact, knowing he did too. They could still be honest.

But what did this honesty allow? She had never touched anyone like she had him; never wanted to. And she felt no desire to ever be with anyone else like this. Maybe one day that would change. Regardless, separation was the only logical step forward. She had no part in his world after this, nor him in hers.

But her future felt emptier without him.

Would they, one day, be able to be together again? As he said?

She wanted that too, one day. And she could wait.

Now, she just felt full of tar. The sand from earlier was still on her skin and in her clothes and hair, and she could still smell the way it burned from the sand's lightning.

Now, she just wanted to forget.

Sleep began to roll over her before she could think much more. She had lost count of the hours since she had last slept on the Aing-Tii homeworld, and there, beside Kylo, after hearing him say those things about restitution and morality, exhaustion could take her.

Kylo held her until it did.

 

 

* * *

 

 

She woke to the heat that preceded the light; as she always had. Kylo was still sleeping deeply at her back, their bodies melded together and pleasantly numb from the pressure of the hammock.

As carefully as she could, she slipped herself out of the sling. The effort was very slow and deliberate, but Kylo didn't appear to wake. After inspecting him closely to make sure of it, she finally turned and headed outside.

Sitting behind one of the Walker's massive legs, watching the slow turn of the dim sky drift towards light, she thought of what they had said last night before she feel asleep.

She would be free and alone again. Some part of it felt good; safe and a return to the familiar. But she knew that soon the insatiable and consuming hunger of loneliness would become too much to bear, now that her hope of a family returning for her was gone.

Although there was hope someone else would. Kylo.

But not yet.

Kylo and she had found a place on that shore where they could be together. Where they could both be safe after he had taken her away from Snoke; saving her life. Apart from the Aing-Tii, they were alone, almost reborn, where there was nothing between them but what was visible. She had relished this opportunity to connect to him, looking past everything he had done that she didn't wish to consider: the mercurial fury he stifled and the obscure power he had no need to employ. But the entire time she knew this relationship would inevitably end. It had too.

She had never fully let herself believe he would turn back to the light. But, perhaps he had begun the revolution. And maybe, one day, it would go into him again. If he would just let it in.

Until then…

Luke.

Maz had told her about Luke. Then so had Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon, and Anakin.

Luke had been waiting for her.

Perhaps he could help her find a way to atone for her shame in what she had done to Snoke, Derisidem and the others. Find a way to make up for it.

It was something.

And she was wanted there, at the grey and green island in the ocean.

"Obi-Wan?" she said quietly into the dawning light.

.

.

"He'll come for me," she said firmly, trying to reassure Kylo. "I'll be fine here until he does. It was my home. You really don't have to wait."

The melancholy battle lines of frustration that hacked at his narrow, angular face were not lessened by these statements or any of her previous reassurances.

Still, finally, he nodded. Tightening the wide line of his shoulders behind him, his expression was somehow both irritated and remorseful. He had insisted on staying with her until Luke arrived, which was to be soon. But she had felt his dread, even without touching his mind she had sensed his wilted anger and flush disdain for meeting the Jedi again. He was not ready for that.

"Where will you go first?" she asked, changing the subject.

Her considered her for a moment before responding, his eyes narrowed. "I'll start at the First Order's command center, wherever it is now. I don't have anywhere else to go."

She smiled gently at that, understanding.

Sitting in the shade against the side of the AT-AT, she still brushed away at the sand that stuck to her skin. Kylo sat next to her, his side pressed against hers. He had come out—intentionally, she knew— after she had finished her conversations with the Jedi Masters, and after they had told her Luke would come for her as soon as she was ready.

The hot-mid morning sun had risen, but she felt cool, almost hollow like a subterranean cavern, one carved by an underground river. Moisture pooled in the depression where her collarbones met, just below her throat. But her mouth was dry.

She looked at Kylo, and he was watching her. His dark eyes and full lips harboring a thousand words.

He reached over and slid his hand along her neck, from her ear to her sternum, and to the place just below where her last ribs joined. Then he leaned over and kissed her, pushing against her until her back was on the sand and his elbows on either side of her cheeks.

She kissed him back with the same fever, one thigh pressed against the iliac crest of his hip and the rest of her pinned under his weight into the caress of the desert floor. She didn't feel the sand, though. She only felt him; the belonging she had found in him, which she would soon have to release.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Kylo  had left. Night had fallen again, and it had been time for him to go.

She had watched the luminous blaze of his ship's engines fade into the distance, ascending through the troposphere, and then becoming indistinguishable among the stars.

She wondered what he saw then; trying to remember the image of Jakku from outside. From night time— she had never seen it at night.

And suddenly she saw it—but not from memory—she saw the chrome display and control boards of Kylo's Rugess Nome shuttle, and beyond it, through a dark wind shield she saw Jakku's surface, now, in night's darkness. The faintest colonies of light gathered like stars on the ebony sea of land.

But how? Unless…

She reached wordlessly for him, feeling into the night. _Kylo?_

His voice, resonating immediately and inexplicably within her, answered:

_Rey—_


End file.
